#I’ll make a character sheet and you’ll be able to see what I’m talking about

[r0achezz]

Toxic obamitsu WIP 😋

[marvelmaniac2000]

Missing More Of You

   Summary: You haven’t seen Edward in a couple days and you’re starting to suspect that he’s gone missing. Although he did tell you he was going on some sort of “mission” It was apparent that something must have happened to him.  Characters:  Edward Nashton x Reader (Y/N)  Subject: Pure fluff, mentions of sex, lots of crying, light kissing and pure adoration for each other, Abandonment issues kink, attachment relationship kink, submissive reader, delicate reader,  Words: 1.0k

Side notes: HAPPY 40TH BIRTHDAY PAULYYY!!! I love that man to pieces!! One of my fav characters to write!! Ugh I love this actor. Just a little snip bit I wrote. Minors DNI 18+

       You smiled at Eddie seeing him get ready for his day at work. His frazzled hair was all over his face and his sleepiness still lingered too.. 

   “Today you’ll be back home at the same time Eds?” 

 The soft sheets covered your bare body from the love you both made during the night. 

“Well yeah (Y/N) I’ll be going to work as usual but I have something I need to share with you.” Eddie was shirtless with just his boxers. The way you liked seeing his chubby chest frazzled. It did something to you seeing him so vulnerable like a lost puppy. A little puppy that belonged to you.

   “I’m going on another secret mission today. I need you to promise me that you’ll still be here when I get back. I’ll only be gone for two days. I need to shed this city of the corruption and fat liars that parade around here.” 

  You sat up from your bed and stared at his expression. “What are you talking about? The people at your job?” You couldn’t understand where all of this anger was coming from. This wasn’t like him at all, usually he’s much softer even though he can be very crude.

“Why don’t you come lay with me, can’t you just request off of work right?” You wanted to cuddle him and stop whatever was hurting his mind. He had you to be his loving girlfriend to keep him relaxed and calm. 

  “I can’t, I have certain things that I need to handle, I promise I’ll be back soon.” He smirked and walked over to the bathroom. You fluttered your eyes and watched him over the bathroom sink brushing his teeth. 

Maybe I should leave him be? But you had so many sputtering questions in your mind. Where was he going? Why was he leaving? This didn’t make much sense. What good would it do to worry yourself with this sort of thing? How could you continue alone at home without him? 

  You slid out of bed and followed your way in the bathroom he was in. You tripped over a pair of boots that sat on the corner of the wall. “Are you going to do that one thing again tonight?” you innocently watched him from the reflection of the square mirror.  

   “Um..yea it has to be done” Eddie turned around to face you. “Everything is going to be alright, when I come back I just think I’ll be a better person for it. His piercing green eyes and his shaky hands held your face close to his.  “Ok…” you responded before he brushed your lips with his. He always liked leaving some mystery toward you. You burst out into tears in front of him. “Eddie don’t leave, I need you here longer” you hugged him close not wanting to let him go. “Don’t worry sweet baby, I’ll be back soon I promise” he pushed you off from a distance before looking into your eyes.  “I promise,” he smiled. 

   That was a few days ago when he told you those words. You crawled up in your bed sobbing to yourself. All you wanted to do was see his face again. Even though you were able to continue on with your life and go to work and do other things around the place, you still missed him. Was he dead? Was he alive? You wondered how much longer you could continue without knowing what happened to your edward. 

  Please come home Eddie please you thought to yourself. You missed everything about him. You hated him leaving you lonely like this. Hot sweat tears filled your cheeks. It was midnight and you wondered when he would be back again. You checked your phone to see if any messages came through. 

  I’ll be there soon, was the new message he sent you. Finally he was coming home to you. You wiped your tears and went to the bathroom to gather yourself up. Your hair was sort of messy but it didn’t matter to you. As long as Eddie came back to you, it was all worth it. You heard a click at the door, and there stood your man that you waited endlessly for. “Oh my gosh!” you braced him into a hug.  He was in his usual costume, and you traced your fingers over his mask. 

  “I told you I would be back” he carried you over to your shared bedroom. He shoveled you over the bed and pinned you down. His breath was kind of heavy, but you could tell he wasn’t all there. He had turned into that other part of Eddie that he knew. “Why are your eyes so red and swollen?” His gloved hand gripped your throat. “Because I missed you” your lip quivered. . He cocked his head to the side and looked over at you.  “Stop your crying ok? There’s nothing to worry about now, I’m here with you now” He loosened his grip on your throat. “Eddie, can you please take that mask off? I want to see your face” you swept a tear away from your cheek. Eddie didn’t answer and instead took his mask off without hesitation. 

  You gave him a smile and pulled in his greasy face for a kiss. “Never ever disappear like that again” You looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Ok” is all he could finish to say before leaning his forehead onto yours.

My Card 💚🥳

[briarberrythornedhart]

Prompted by: “sitting in his lap would probably fix me”

“Hey!” Eddie snapped his fingers in your direction. “You’ve got initiative, what’s your move?”

It works, his long, strong, fingers are able to snap you out of the near fugue state you’d been in, just staring at the dungeon master and lusting after him with every fiber of your being, pining because he is so close and so far away and sooo unattainable. You clear your throat.

“I try to reason with…”

All the groans from the other players and the slap of Gareth’s hand to his face suddenly overwhelm you with noise and you feel ever so slightly unwelcome again.

They weren’t gatekeeper-misogynists at all and had welcomed you without prejudice - they’d had girl members before so you were nothing new… but your wanting to solve everything through non-violence was getting on even sweet Grant’s last nerve. He’s biting his nails, which you know means he’s losing his cool too.

“Silence!” Eddie commands the other players. He leans your way from his perch in his throne. “They are goblins. You don’t speak goblin, they are going to attack you…” It’s a teeny bit patronizing. He is equal parts threatening and pleading with you. Warning you he can’t save you from yourself. He isn’t going to go easy on you. He isn’t the type and that has only intensified your crush on him.

“You have the perfect spell…” Lucas points to the relevant spell on your character sheet. Max’s boyfriend is hoping to smooth things over, help you make a good decision, for the good of the party.

But you are relentless. “They are not mindless zombies, they have language and art. They live in villages and raise their children. You can’t tell me they are evil because of their... genetics. It’s the god Maglubiyet who is the real villian.”

Eddie smiles but it is 40% grimace. “I agree with you.... and Whilst I respect your commitment to your alignment and your character, you know you can’t personally resolve milennia-old war between the Goblins and....everyone. And you are running out of time, one is raising a horn to his mouth....”

“I bend down and draw in the dirt road - I draw a box...” You sketch your idea on some loose notebook paper from your journal. “With three stick figures in it, and then draw jail bars over the stick figures.”

Eddie watches you - bemused - as you attempt to negotiate a hostage exchange via cartoons drawn in dirt.

He nods, lips set in the smirk that usually means he’s contemplating a rug pull. “The Goblins look at your drawings. Their mouths hang open. One scratches his protruding belly. One nudges the other with his elbow. Dustin, you rolled next highest Initiative. What do you do?”

You know Dustin has your back. And Lucas will probably want to see how your gambit plays out. But Gareth sneaks up behind the goblins and captures them and everything devolves into violence from there.

Jeff ends up with a Goblin speared on his sword, Grant gets an injury you’ll have to heal next game. No one seems pleased. You feel like you’ve been through the Kobayashi Maru test.

Eddie calls a break for pizza and asks you to hang back for a second.

This is when I get kicked out for ruining the game for everyone, You think.

“You are working through something, aren’t you?” Eddie is hugging his knees in his throne. He is threading his pointer finger through the worn holes in his jeans and popping the threads.

“What?”

“Well, you have been staring... like eyes unfocused and hands clenched and - like - it’s totally okay you don’t want to fight. It’s not all about dungeon crawls and fighting baddies... but if you need to talk about... it. Whatever it is - I’m here. You know.... I c-care. Okay? We’re friends - I want you to know I’ll support you.”

“That’s sweet.” It is - it stings like a slap that you are only ever going to be friends, but it’s sweet too. Sweet-Bitter.

Eddie sighs, looks down and then back up at you through his messy curls, “You know, sometimes I think you’d be happier as dungeon master. You wanna try running a one-shot sometime? See if you’d like it?”

You laugh, “As if you’d share your throne.” You tease. He’s got you all wrong. You don’t want to be in control. You just want him to tell you to do different things. Put you in different situations. Hellfire Club has gotten so much more difficult lately because you can’t stop thinking about Eddie and wanting him in every way.

“I totally would.” Eddie looks faux hurt. He scoots himself to the side in the throne, closes his legs together like he NEVER does and brings his hands in to shove between his knees, leaving you maybe 6-8 inches of space. “Look, I can make room.”

“That’s not enough room for my ass.” You shake your head, smiling. Probably blushing, you feel the heat on your cheeks.

You measure your hips and hold up your hands to show him.

You think he probably doesn’t notice that you bite your lip whenever he is this close. You can just catch the scent of his leather jacket and his aftershave or deodorant whatever it is that makes you want to tear his Hellfire club shirt off with your teeth?? Whatever it is, It’s delicious.

“I see your point. You’re just gonna have to sit in my lap.” He shrugs. Smirks. Pats his thigh.

[open-hearth-rpg]

Cards (Generative): Great RPG Mechanics #RPGMechanics

Prologue

One of the great tragedies of moving to online play has been making certain ttrpg elements more challenging. There’s the obvious: not being able to fully see & grok other players’ body language and the tactile element of a shared table with books & sheets in your hand. But there are also system elements made difficult like maps and shared dice rolling. While these particular issues had been solved by various VTTs and apps, there’s a cost in ease. For me it’s more work to assemble an electronic map and tokens than to grab stuff off the shelf. 

Cards in rpgs are a tougher issue for online play. There have been apps to manage standard playing decks, but unique ones present more of a challenge. I’ve played quite a bit with the Roll20 app– and it works for some purposes but not for others. And, even with the ability to make unique electronic decks, you still don’t have the tactility– the sense of holding, shuffling, and managing your cards. The various board game simulators have aimed to replicate this, with varying success.

On Cards

Cards in tabletop rpg play usually have three possible functions: reference, generation, and resolution. I’ll talk about their place as a heightened randomizer tomorrow. Today I want to cover the cool ways in which they’re used to create worlds and set things up. 

The earliest memory I have of someone doing this was an old-school player who picked up D&D in the mid-1970s as a college student. He ran a campaign where he would do a tarot reading and then based on that modify your stats, give you a family background, and assign you traits. It was simultaneously exciting and disempowering. 

I had that in mind years later when I sketched out a tarot for our ongoing fantasy world. I mocked up cards and wrote up meanings for the whole deck, based on the history we developed. Eventually I used that as a prompt system for generating NPCs. You would draw three cards and then sketch out a character based on those elements. 

That’s not unlike the approach taken by The Story Engine. It’s both a writing and a roleplay tool. The original one is a collection of prompts, which is interesting and probably a useful tool for doing in-depth session planning. But I’m more intrigued by The Deck of Worlds. This offers set of world-building elements and prompts. You stack and build up details on the tiles, creating an interesting picture. It’s beautifully put together. 

Likewise we’ve seen a variety of cards as tiles used for generating random dungeons and wilderness areas. I can imagine a Hexcrawl done like this, letting the GM create the terrain as they go. I’m certain those are already out there. These generators make use of the strength of cards: the richness of information possible on them. They’re a step forward from the classic random roleplaying tables. 

With cards, instead of a simple prompt, you can easily add more text, sub-tables, and graphical information. You elevate the randomizer. If you want to increase utility, you can use both sides or have the orientation of the cards impact the results. It’s a great way to bring tables to life– but does have the disadvantage of a more serious investment of energy. There’s a big difference between a multicolumn, one-page table and a version of that table done as a deck of cards. Speaking as someone who has accumulated a lot of RPG reference cards, I can attest that the space and storage component can become an issue– beyond the question of how many times you’ll actually need to use the deck…

But two recent games build the use of cards directly into the set up in an interesting way. Alice is Missing uses cards to establish the world. It’s clever because of how the cards to impart information and keep the play silent. You have character, clue, suspect, and location cards. The particular combination of those dramatically affects the story being told: what & when those appear. 

Likewise Zombie World offers an cool approach to using cards as building blocks. A checklist card of elements guides the collaborative creation of the PCs’ enclave. But more interesting is the random set up which frames the whole game. Players are dealt four cards: 1 Past, 2 Present, and 1 Trauma. The first and the last of these they can look at, but are kept facedown. From the Present cards, describing who their character is now, each player picks one and turns it face up, discarding the other.

The decks are substantial for these– expanded by a couple of supplements. Based on the mix of their three cards players come up with character details and background. After introductions another set of cards is dealt out between players. This describes a relationship between the two of them. They then negotiate and work out the details. Once play actually begins, one of the goal each player has is to hit their trigger and reveal their Past and Trauma cards. 

I love the way the use of the cards reinforces the themes of play. Character creation is super fast– you can set up and get to playing in 15 to 30 minutes, depending on the group. That’s the kind of energy you want going into a horror game like this. Zombie games lean into “we are our own worst enemies,” and the hidden elements of characters reinforce that. Characters are rich, but they are also disposable. If you die early, generating a new character is the work of a few moments. The cards also factor into resolution, but I’ll come to that tomorrow. 

For a time Magpie had a sci-fi version of the Zombie World system on their docket. That seems to be in limbo now– perhaps the form factor of ZW didn’t do as well as they hoped or perhaps the success of the Avatar rpg washed everything else away. It’s too bad because right now, with the success of Among Us, a sci-fi take on these mechanics could be awesome.

[ithinkinggenshin]

hello! How are you doing?

this might be kinda weird but could I request for fem reader in heat and ( yae, ei, hu tao, Eula) helping them bc they get reader into heat?

Look What You Did to Me

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters: Yae Miko, The Raiden Shogun (Ei), Hu Tao, Eula

Pairings: Fem!Reader x ^above characters (separate)

Warnings: SMUT, A/B/O dynamics, anal sex, girls with cocks, breeding kink, somnophilia, knotting

Word count: 4.5k

Synopsis: Werewolf kink just in time for kinktober? ​👀​

Extra Notes: I’m so sorry this took a month to get to. I’ve written like… one fic every week. I’ve made a routine for myself so hopefully I’ll be able to get to more asks sooner. 

Yae Miko:

For a woman who’s head shrine maiden, Yae Miko does not dress very modestly. Which is disastrous for you because now you can’t focus on anything other than her legs.

One would think you’d stare at her breasts– and you do… a lot… but those goddamn legs of her are so smooth and lush. 

Her dress is so short too. You don’t know how it’s possible for her to hide how hung she is. 

It’s so bad that she’s practically sent you into heat with her looks alone, which is bad because you’re on the clock. 

All you can think about is Yae fucking you. The way her legs look when she’s thrusting into you, or how they shine when you hump them, trying to get off. Not to mention when you dig your nails into them when Miko forces you to face away from her and bounce on her cock. 

Oh fuck… 

And her knot. 

That tears you apart and has your mind shattering every time she forces you to take it. The perfect compliment to her giant cock that causes a bump to show every time it’s fully inside of you.  

You can’t do it. 

You need her. 

You need her right now. 

Yae turns and looks at you. She can see how flush you are, your chest rising and falling rapidly. If it were anyone else, they’d presume you’re panicking or hurt, but Yae can smell you from a mile away. 

Oops

Looks like she’s going to need to help you out, or else you’ll never be able to go back to work. Or worse, some other alpha may try to claim you for themselves. 

Yae Miko would never allow such a thing. 

You belong to her. 

She holds her arms out, and you immediately dash towards her, throwing yourself into her embrace. 

“Come here. Let me take care of you, little pup.”

You can barely process anything going on beyond what you feel. Yae feels cool under your overheating body. She’s moving, and you’re bouncing in her arms, but it’s not the same kind of bouncing that you feel when you’re riding her. No, she’s walking. Carrying you. Taking you somewhere. You whine in her ear. 

“Miko please. I need you.”

“I know pup. But I don’t think you’d be able to handle the aftermath of us sharing such an intimate moment with the other shrine maidens. Be patient. We’re almost to my chambers.”

All you can do is nod. All you know is that you’re having to wait. Your arms around her neck slide down along her back, so you can leverage yourself enough that you’re able to lift yourself up to grind your core on her stomach. 

Yae’s laugh only makes you work harder. 

“You’re making a mess of my clothes, puppy. I hope you plan on cleaning up after yourself.”

You still don’t answer, too focused on trying to find some relief. Of course, pathetically humping the front of her uniform isn’t nearly enough. 

You need her. 

You need her cock. 

You need– 

“I know what you need, puppy. I’d be a poor alpha if I didn’t. Now, no more talking. The only words I want to hear come out of your mouth are my name and please.”

You didn’t realize you had said your thoughts out loud. Not that it matters, you’re too far gone to feel any humiliation. 

Which is good, because you soon find yourself face down on the floor. Yae forcing you into a position where your knees are positioned under you, so they can hold you up. 

“You’ve already ruined my clothes. I’m not going to let you ruin my sheets too.”

She’s so fast. 

Your mind is always one step behind. By the time you register her fat cock slapping against your pussy lips, she’s already bottomed out inside of you. Your reaction to that ends up mixing with the follow up as she’s already fucking you at a brutal pace. 

You wail and flail your arms, completely unprepared outside of how slick you already were. 

You don’t even try to hold yourself up. Instead one hand ends up digging claw marks into the wood on the floor while the other grips Yae’s wrist. Her hand having made its way into your hair and gripping and pulling it so your poor face isn’t rubbed raw on the planks because of how violently Miko’s thrusting into you. 

It’s all too fast. You’re already falling over the edge. Thankfully Yae doesn’t stop. You’re still not satisfied. 

You’re babbling out “please” and “Yae” over and over. Sometimes managing to remember the words “thank you.” But apparently you’re saying two words more than the others. 

“More!”

“Harder!”

“Tsk. Tsk. So demanding. Well, so much for you going back to work. You’ll have to figure out an excuse to tell your poor boss and coworkers, because I’m not letting you go until I’m through with you. 

Pathetic thing. You’re already squirting and it’s only been a few minutes. Your heat came early. I’m so glad. I’ve been waiting and saving up. This time, I’m going to breed you.”

You whine. That’s why her balls feel so heavy and big as they slap against you. 

Yes yesyesyes!

“Oh? Such an eager pup. Ready to be bred?”

You open your mouth to answer but are cut off when Yae lets go of your hair, opting to put both hands on your hips, so she can move your body with hers. 

“It doesn’t matter. I’m going to cum inside this lovely pussy of yours. I’ll do it a few times, just to make sure you’re guaranteed to get pregnant.”

You moan loudly.

“And if somehow you don’t, then we’ll just know for certain that you’re only use is to be my little sex doll.” 

The Raiden Shogun (Ei):

At times she’s as cold and sharp as a blade, and at others she’s warm and soft. Usually you love cuddling with her. You feel naked without her arms around you when you two fall asleep, but right now, you feel like you’re overheating in her grasp. The need inside you burning outward and ruining this tender moment. 

You’re broken out of your thoughts when you feel her arms let go of you. Her touch returns but at your mound, right where you need her. Her long fingers easily push your panties aside and slip into your pussy. 

“Ah~ Ei!”

She doesn’t respond, instead focused and watching her fingers disappear in and out of you, mesmerized by the sight. 

So it’s not Ei right now. 

No. 

The Raiden Shogun is the one fucking you. 

Your panties are soaked through, and your juices quickly end up coating her knuckles and fingers. Even the ones that aren’t plunging inside you. 

You easily took three fingers from the get go, but they still don’t compare to her cock, which might as well be double the size of those fingers together. 

You can’t help but clench as soon as the head slips inside. You wrap your legs around the puppet’s waist and pull her closer, forcing the rest of her massive dick inside of you. 

You’re so glad Ei made her vessel to have such an enormous cock. It’s hitting all of your most sensitive spots, and the way it presses against the entrance to your womb has you throwing your head back against the mattress. 

You aren’t left lying on the bed for long, though. 

Long, lithe arms snake around you and force you to sit up. Gravity pulls you further down on her, your pussy somehow managing to take more of it. Your insides rearrange as you shift around.

She’s still not done.

You suddenly feel yourself leave the bed entirely. Only being supported by the arms around your back and under your ass. 

Oh 

FUCK

You throw your head back and find yourself looking up at the ceiling as she starts thrusting into you from below. Which is only made deeper by the way you bounce up and down in time with her. 

You swear you’re sinking lower and lower each time, or more like she’s forcing her way deeper and deeper. Each thrust breaks the entrance to your womb in more and more, until the tip of her cock is fully buried inside, and Ei– the Shogun cums directly into it. 

The ropes of cum she spurts out quickly overfills your pussy and drips onto the floor. You force yourself to lean forward, now looking at the ground behind your alpha. Your arms loosening from around her shoulders and simply dangling. 

Your eyes roll back as she starts to thrust again. You’re boneless and helpless as she keeps fucking you. She shows no signs of tiredness or strain. If anything, she seems even more determined and rougher than before. You can feel air being pushed out of you with each thrust. 

The Raiden Shogun doesn’t plan on stopping. Ei changed her programming so that the puppet would be able to detect when you went into heat, and then would proceed to fuck you until it was over. She was specifically informed that she should always cum inside of you. It actually concerns her that some of her cum spilled out, which is why she’s fucking you so hard now. To make up for what was lost. 

The rational and coherent part of you is drowning in pleasure, completely useless right now. You fail to realize that it’s her goal to fill you with cum. It won’t be till much, much later when you wake up from the best sleep you’ve ever had and feel the weight of the plugs inside you that you remember what happened. 

The shogun had fucked you through your heat and did her best to make sure all of her cum stayed inside of you. At one point your crying got through to her and she pulled out of your abused cunt, opting to plug the cum up inside of you. 

She thought she was finished, until you mewled her master’s name again. 

You were still needy.

Still desperate for her to continue to fill you up. 

The Shogun hadn’t received directions on what to do in this sort of situation, but she isn’t one to back down from a challenge. It helped that you guided her hand and moved her fingers so that the tip of one was right in front of your asshole. She understood immediately and slowly eased it inside, immediately noticing how much tighter and less lubricant it was. 

The way she built you up to eventually pound your ass was perfect. 

You felt complete. 

The wall between the plug in your pussy and the cock in your ass only served to make things worse, better?, as the nerves were overwhelmed with stimulation on both sides.

This time, the Shogun paced herself so that she didn't ruin you as quickly. Taking her time as she languidly pushed her cock in and then pulled it out. When you insisted that she go faster and harder, she shook her head. Only relenting when you kept begging for it. 

Even then, she just ended up flipping you two around so that she was beneath you. She told you to ride her at whatever speed you wanted, that would be the only way for you to get more. 

You realize you must've looked so pathetic, the way you instantly collapsed. 

Of course you couldn't do it. Your legs were made completely useless back when she first started helping you through your heat. You only end up laying over the puppet's body. You bury your face in her chest to hide your embarrassment.

A soft chuckle and gentle circles drawn on your back pulls your attention back to her. 

"Ei…" you whisper fondly. 

"It's my turn to take care of you."

She gently eases her cock back inside your ass. You immediately grip onto her shoulders. She fucks you slowly, missionary style. You look up at her, and you both stare into each other's eyes. Your nipples brush against her skin as your boobs bounce with each of her ever intensifying thrusts. You chant her name with your hoarse voice. 

You both tip over the edge, one after the other. Ei cumming inside of you at the feeling of you clenching so hard as your orgasm washes over you. She makes sure that she's fully seated inside you, so that her cum fills you up and so that the pussy plug doesn't come out from how hard you're spazzing out. 

You twitch as you lay on top of her. 

Ei slowly brings you up toward her face, easing you off her cock. As soon as it's free, and you're eye level with her, she pushes a new plug against your back hole. You stare wide eyed at her, surprised at the new sensation. 

Of course, your ass easily takes the big plug. You have no idea where Ei got it from, but you don’t question it. She only lets go when she's positive it won't fall out of place. Her hands move up to cup your cheeks, and you two share a tender kiss. 

You don't remember what happened after that. You must've passed out. And now, waking up, you realize that Ei did you the favor of cleaning you up and washing your body, with the only exception being your holes, which remain stuffed and full. 

You stay in bed, basking in the feeling. You're grateful your alpha takes such good care of you. She may be the one causing you to go into heat, but she's also the one to fix it. 

You lower your hand till it's between your legs. 

"Do not remove them." 

The cold, sharp voice reaches your ears and causes you to shiver. 

The Shogun seems intent on making sure you stay full of her cum. The plugs inside you are like a trophy to her, proving how thorough and good a job she did. 

You prop yourself up on shaky arms, only to be pushed back down. 

"Do not exert yourself. I will take care of everything for you."

With those words she snakes an arm around you back to pull you up, her other hand bringing a tall glass of water to your lips. You barely keep up as she forces you to drink it all in one go. 

Aftercare with the Raiden Shogun isn't very soft or sweet, but you can tell she cares. And who are you to not reward that?

You lean up in her arms and cup her face. 

"What is your request?"

You smile. "Kiss me."

No hesitation.

The kiss is loving and meaningful. It doesn't go deeper than your lips pressed against her, but it doesn't have to. You're happy enough feeling the softest part of her against you.

Your girlfriend is an enigma, but she’s perfect for you. 

Hu Tao:

Everytime she talks directly into your ear to tease you, it makes you go far more insane than any persistent prank she's ever pulled on you. She makes it a point to invade your personal space, running her hands all over your body and bringing her face close to yours. Always playing innocent and then suddenly leaning over and biting your neck or shoulder and pinching you places that aren’t appropriate. 

She says you have the best reactions. The way you yelp and jump in shock. She laughs with your skin between her teeth. Though apparently this time was much more fun for her. 

You’re completely oblivious to Hu Tao sneaking up behind you in the bedroom. You somehow don’t notice the dip in the bed behind you when she approaches, and you almost fall off the side when she suddenly latches onto you. Her teeth sink into the side of your neck, and her hands reach around to grip your boobs. You don’t even realize that you moaned in response until you hear her snicker behind you. 

“Oh ho ho~ Is my little omega feeling a bit hot today? Are you suddenly all delirious because of me? Let me help you with that.”

She’s instantly on top of you. Pulled you back and climbed over to straddle your waist. You mewl at the feeling of her hardening cock pressed against your abdomen. You squirm and try to buck, but even though she’s small, Hu Tao doesn’t let you go. 

She pushes the waistband of her shorts down and frees herself. You stare at the glistening with precum. 

Your girlfriend strokes herself on top of you, taunting you further. Your mind is overwhelmed with lust as you reach your hands up to stroke Hu Tao’s dick. 

“P-please…” you plead. 

“Ah you sound so nice when you beg.”

She shifts so her feet pin down your arms. She strokes herself faster. She’s so thick, the tip of her thumb and middle finger don’t even meet as she wraps them around her shaft. Everytime she fucks you, she tears you apart . You can never get used to it, never get tired of the feeling.

But you’re tired of all the games your partner plays with you. The way she teases you in public and then smacks your ass and leaves you shaky and out of breath. Or the way she steals your clothes as you shower and then chases you around the house pretending to be an intruder. And now she has the audacity to make your heat come early and not even touch you properly! 

You glare at her and pull your arms from beneath her feet. She loses her balance and her fat cock slaps against your clothed chest. You hate how easily it hypnotizes you into trying to lean your head down to follow it. 

Even as you struggle and fight, Hu Tao manages to pull your attention back effortlessly. 

You want to pin her down, hands around her throat, as you ride her fat cock. That’ll show her. 

Hu Tao just laughs at your mesmerized gaze as she swings her dick back and forth closer to your face. She never takes sex very seriously. Not until she’s balls deep inside of you and can only focus on fucking you into tomorrow. 

You lean up and try to get close enough to put your lips on her. Your girlfriend cackles louder as she leans back and sits on your stomach, knocking the wind and hope out of you. You lay back and let out a whine, which just makes her giggle even more. 

“Aiya! Alright, alright! You stupid cunt. I’ll put some babies in you.” 

Hu Tao grabs at the waistband of your bottoms and yanks them down. Sadly, she ends up tearing the article as her hands pulled away from each other to try and make it easier to get around the widest part of your thighs. 

“Oops,” she says with a shrug and laugh. “I’ll buy you another pair later. Guess I’m a bit excited too.”

“Just hurry up,” is all you say. You’re so sick of this girl and her games. 

“Now, now. That’s no way to talk to your alpha. Do I need to teach you some manners again?”

You’re not thinking clearly. Annoyed and horny and wanting this feeling of insanity to go away, you wind your fingers in her hair and pull her up to your cunt. 

“Just shut up and fuck me Hu Tao!”

“Hmph.” 

She leans down till her nose is against your bush and her lips ghost over your clit. You hump the air, but she doesn’t help you at all. Then she straightens back up and suddenly–

SMACK

You yelp as she slaps your cunt again and again. 

You knew you were playing with fire when you talked back to her, but this isn’t what you expected her to do at all. 

“You. Want. Me. To. Make. You. Cum?” She emphasizes each of her words with a hard smack. “Fine.”

You moan. 

“Can you feel how wet you’ve gotten?” She shoves her knee against your pussy and brings her hand up to your cheek, wiping all of your essence off. You don’t even think about feeling ashamed as you hump her thigh. 

She yanks your hair and shoves her fingers in your mouth when you open it to moan again. 

“Aiya. Stupid bitch. You’re making such a mess. I guess you can’t help it. You’re too horny and braindead right now to do anything useful. You’re lucky I’m so nice. Someone else might’ve used their pyro vision to make this heat of yours even worse as punishment. But I’m going to help you instead. You better thank me later.”

You garble around her fingers as you look into her wild eyes. You feel the tip of her cock against your entrance as she lines it up. You don’t have to wait long before she’s forcing herself inside you. She hooks her fingers in your mouth and pulls your jaw down, as though that’ll help force you onto her cock faster. 

You claw at the bedding as she reshapes your insides, everything being pushed aside to make room for your girlfriend. Your cries are louder as they come through your wide, open mouth. 

“That’s right. Perfect little fucktoy for me. Perfect little omega. C’mon. Don’t make me do all the work.” She lets go of your aching jaw and slaps your stomach. 

You arch your back and feel her cock move inside you. 

Fuckfuckfuck. 

Hu Tao pistons herself in and out of you at a moderate pace. It’s enough to have you going insane as you try to gain enough control of your limbs to help her fuck you faster. 

She’s back to cackling at your desperation as you chase her dick. 

She always has so much fun toying with you. 

But she’s starting to swell inside you. Hu Tao’s ready to take things a bit more seriously, as she grips your waist with her hands and properly fucks you, hard and fast. She’s pounding away at your womb, chasing her own high, not caring that you’re already clenching and cumming around her. 

So what if you came already? So what if you’re already cummng again?

Hu Tao won’t be done with you until she’s satisfied. Not until she’s had her chance to cum inside your pussy enough to flood your womb and cunt, till you’re overflowing with her cum. She’s not done yet. Not by a long shot. Now flip over. She wants to get your ass ready for later as she fucks you to her next orgasm. 

Eula:

Those goddamn thigh high boots of hers.

You can’t think of anything else as you look at the pillowy, soft, exposed part of her thighs just above the rim of her boots. 

You tell her that the fat lips of your pussy would compliment them so well. She blushes as you describe in detail about how you want to press your cunt down on one thigh and rut against it. Make it glisten with your juices. 

Look at what you’ve done to me. You tell her. I need my alpha to come take care of me. Help me Eula~ you tease. 

She huffs, bright red and riled up. You insult her with your antics, but it’s her duty as your alpha to help you through your heat.

The captain quickly drags you out of the Knights of Favonius’ Headquarters and to your apartment. She can’t take you to hers because, well… it’s not hers. It’s Amber’s. And she will not have a repeat of that time when Amber walked in on the both of you. 

Eula couldn’t look at her for a whole month afterward. 

She doesn’t understand how you can have so little shame. Mewling and moaning her name as she pulls you through the streets and into the apartment building. She’s practically carrying you up the stairs, pathetic dog. As soon as your door is unlocked, she’s shoving it open and throwing you across the room onto your bed. She flicks the lock closed behind her and is by your side, stripped of her uniform. 

“Hurry up.” 

All that rush wasn’t just because she was embarrassed, it’s because she’s just as– no, she’s even more eager than you are to have sex. She’s been so pent up, hasn’t been home to be with you for so long. Only a few moments to share a quick greeting and kiss and maybe a few words. Not nearly long enough for her to find relief inside your pussy, the one that pulls her in and fits so nicely around her. 

Eula’s eyes roll to the back of her head, she’s completely unable to keep her composure as she quickly thrusts into you. She almost doesn’t recognize her voice as she moans and praises you. You pull her forward and buck your hips to help her. 

She’s practically on top of you as she thrusts. You laugh at her pathetic face. You love when she gets like this, so raw and unfiltered. She’s adorable and desperate. She fucks you so good when she lets go of all of her inhibitions and just focuses on cumming deep inside of you. Her cock pounds at the entrance to your womb wanting so desperately to be let in. One day, Eula wants to feel the inside of your womb. To fit her whole cock inside you, the last inch and a half that remains uncared for as your pussy just can’t fit it all.

She’ll have her vengeance one day.

But right now, all she cares about is how good it feels when you tighten your pussy around her. You two always cum together. It’s the perfect way to do it, and Eula deserves nothing less than perfection. 

She shudders and spasms as she cums inside of you. You claw at her back and moan her name. 

It’s not even ten seconds later and you both are at it again. Wet noises and out of breath whines and moans fill the room. 

This is bliss. 

Eula doesn’t feel bad at all for causing you to go into heat early. She doesn’t feel bad when she fucks you to the point that you pass out as you cum after too many other times. She feels amazing fucking you while you lay unconcious beneath her. 

For better and worse, she won’t remember that she did all of this to you after she wakes up. The lack of memories saves her from her own embarrassment, but then she’ll insist that she didn’t fuck you that much or that hard and demand that you stand up and walk her to work like a good partner. Of course, you don’t even manage to straighten your legs before you’re falling over and needing your girlfriend to catch you. You catch another glimpse of her exposed thigh, and she’ll smell your arousal before you even voice it. 

“Insatiable, greedy, little omega. You should be punished for having such lewd thoughts about me.”

You slip in her grasp, your legs completely caving beneath you. 

Thankfully, your alpha doesn’t intend to let you hurt yourself on the hard floor. She pushes you back down on the bed and is out of her uniform before you know it. 

You may be endlessly wanting for her, but Eula aches for you just as much.

[fannish-karmiya]

Wei Wuxian’s Position in the Jiang Household

Fandom tends to mischaracterise Wei Wuxian’s position in the Jiang family greatly. A lot of people project more modern ideas about adoption onto his relationship with the Jiang siblings, and write as if he really is their sibling and only Yu Ziyuan’s abusive nature gets in the way of their bond.

This strikes me as a bit misguided. While adoption was practised in ancient China, it was mainly for the purpose of obtaining a male heir in the absence of one, or obtaining more daughters to marry off for alliances. Jiang Fengmian had no reason to adopt Wei Wuxian into the main family, and he didn’t. Wei Wuxian’s position in the household is far more nebulous than that, and honestly it’s hard to find an exact corollary, in Chinese history or in any culture, precisely because it was so messy and ill-defined.

A Companion to Upper Class Children

Wei Wuxian is the son of a servant of Yunmeng Jiang; it’s notable that Wei Changze is always referred to this way, rather than as a disciple. Wei Changze wound up leaving the sect in order to marry Cangse Sanren, and Jiang Fengmian considered them dear enough friends that when he heard they passed away, he spent years searching for their orphaned son. He wound up finding Wei Wuxian on the streets of Yiling and brought him home as his ward.

Wei WuXian was taken home by Jiang FengMian when he was nine.

Most memories from back then were already blurred. Yet, Jin Ling’s mother, Jiang YanLi, remembered all of them, and even told him quite a few.

She said that, after his father heard of the news that his parents both died in battle, he had always dedicated himself to finding the child that these past friends had left behind. After searching for a while, he finally found the child in Yiling.

(Chapter 24, Exiled Rebels translation)

It’s clear from the start that beyond this sense of obligation to his old friends, Jiang Fengmian also had a role set out for Wei Wuxian: he wanted him to be a companion to his children, and Jiang Cheng in particular.

He encourages a friendship between them, insisting on a sleepover between the two a week into Wei Wuxian’s stay.

On the second day, Jiang Cheng’s puppies were given to someone else.

This angered Jiang Cheng so much that he threw a big tantrum. No matter how much Jiang FengMian comforted him gently, telling him that they should ‘be good friends’, he refused to talk to Wei WuXian. Quite a few days later, Jiang Cheng’s attitude softened. Jiang FengMian wanted to strike while the iron was still hot, so he told Wei WuXian to sleep in the same room as him, hoping that they’d grow fonder of each other.

[...]

That night, Jiang Cheng locked Wei WuXian outside his room, refusing to let him in.

[...]

Wei WuXian waited outside for a long time. When the door opened, before the joy could spread onto his face, he was bombarded with a pile of things being thrown out. The door banged shut again.

Jiang Cheng told him from inside, “Go sleep somewhere else! This is my room! You’re even gonna steal my room?!”

[...]

Standing outside, as Wei WuXian heard that dogs would come bite him, fear immediately bubbled within him. Twisting his fingers, he hurried, “I’ll go, I’ll go. Don’t call the dogs!”

Dragging behind him the sheets and blanket that were thrown outside, he ran out the hall. Having only arrived at Lotus Pier for a short period of time, he didn’t dare jump around yet. Every day, he obediently holed up in the places that Jiang FengMian told him to stay at. He didn’t even know where his room was, much less have the courage to knock on other people’s doors, scared that it’d disturb someone’s dreams.

(Chapter 71, Exiled Rebels translation)

After Jiang Cheng is worried about getting in trouble, he goes to Jiang Yanli for help, and she searches for Wei Wuxian.

But this was the first pair of shoes that Jiang FengMian bought him. Wei WuXian was too embarrassed to make him go out of his way to buy another pair, and so he said that they weren’t too big. Jiang YanLi helped him into his shoe and pressed the hollow tip, “It is a bit big. I’ll fix it for you when we get back.”

Hearing this, Wei WuXian felt somewhat uneasy, as if he did something wrong again.

Living in other people’s homes, the worst that could happen was to make trouble for the hosts.

Jiang YanLi put him onto her back and began to walk back, wobbling in her steps as she spoke, “A-Ying, no matter what A-Cheng said to you, don’t bother about him. He doesn’t have a good temper, so he’s always home playing with himself. Those puppies were his favorites. Dad sent them away, and so he’s feeling upset. He’s actually really happy that somebody’s here to be with him.”

(Chapter 71, Exiled Rebels translation)

Later, Wei Wuxian offers to cover for him, saying simply that he ran outside by himself because he was scared. In this one case it feels like a genuine instance of children showing solidarity and covering for each other’s little misbehaviours. But it also follows a pattern of Wei Wuxian doing this and making excuses, time and time again, for Jiang Cheng. I wonder if on some level, he already knew that his role in the household was in part to be a companion-servant to Jiang Cheng.

Wei Wuxian normally never puts up with people treating him poorly or being arrogant; he constantly bites his tongue when Jiang Cheng does so around him. While they study at Cloud Recesses, Jiang Cheng frequently insults Wei Wuxian, who always just smiles and laughs it off.

Jiang Cheng humphed, “Him? He wakes at nine in the morning and sleeps at one during the night. When he wakes up, he doesn’t practice his sword or meditate; he goes boating, swims around, picks lotus seedpods, and hunts for pheasants.”

Wei WuXian replied, “No matter how much pheasants I hunt, I’m still number one.”

(Chapter 13, Exiled Rebels translation)

Jiang Cheng scolded with a darkened expression, “What are you proud of?! What is there to be proud of with this?! Do you think that it’s a glorious thing to be told by someone to get lost? You bring so much shame upon our sect!”

(Chapter 16, Exiled Rebels translation)

We never see Wei Wuxian excusing this sort of behaviour from any other character; he has no problem scolding Jin Ling for his arrogant attitude and telling him that he shouldn’t be imitating his uncle, after all! It’s only where Jiang Cheng is concerned that he does this, and honestly, even then he seems to be quite aware that Jiang Cheng’s behaviour is wrong; he simply accepts on some level that it’s his role in the household to put up with it.

He actually does, very gently, try to guide Jiang Cheng at times. In Lotus Seed Pods, for example, he tries to give Jiang Cheng advice on how to flirt with some of the maidens in Yunmeng and make friends:

Wei WuXian threw the seed pods toward the shore. It was a far distance, but they landed lightly in the women’s hands. He grabbed a few more and stuffed them into Jiang Cheng’s arms, shoving, “What are you doing, just standing there? Hurry up.”

After a few shoves, Jiang Cheng could only accept them, “Hurry up and do what?”

Wei WuXian, “You ate the watermelon too, so you also have to return the gift, don’t you? Here, here, don’t be embarrassed. Start throwing, start throwing.”

Jiang Cheng snorted again, “You must be joking. What’s there to be embarrassed about?” Whatever he said, however, even after all of the shidi began to throw seed pods, he still didn’t start to move. Wei WuXian urged, “Then throw some! If you throw some this time, next time you can ask them if the seed pods tasted good, and you’ll be able to make conversation again!”

[...]

Jiang Cheng was just about to throw one when he realized how shameless it was the moment he heard it. He peeled a seed pod and ate it by himself.

[...]

After a while of laughter, he turned around and looked at Jiang Cheng, who was sitting at the front of the boat eating seed pods with a long face. His smile gradually disappeared as he sighed, “Well, what an unteachable child.”

Jiang Cheng fumed, “So what if I want to eat alone?”

Wei WuXian, “Look at you, Jiang Cheng. Nevermind. You’re hopeless. Just wait to eat alone your whole life!”

(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)

He even sighs rather disappointedly when Jiang Cheng refuses to take the hint; he knows that Jiang Cheng’s sullen behaviour is going to make him miserable down the line, but all of his gentle efforts to nudge him in a better direction have failed.

He also speaks with great awareness of Jiang Cheng’s flaws after the fight in the ancestral hall:

Wei WuXian reached out with one hand and massaged his chest, as if trying to break up the pent-up feeling inside his heart. A moment later, he blurted, “I knew Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have let us go so easily. That brat… How could this be?!”

[...]

Wei WuXian’s eyelids throbbed, “Every one of them. The brat’s been like this ever since he was young.He’ll say anything when he’s angry, no matter how bad it is. He gives up on all grace and discipline whatsoever. As long as it’d annoy whomever he’s against, he’d say it no matter what terrible insults he uses. After all these years, he hasn’t gotten better at all. Please don’t take it to heart.”

(Chapter 90, Exiled Rebels translation)

This is so interesting to me, because it really makes it clear that Wei Wuxian has always been aware of these flaws of Jiang Cheng’s. He hasn’t been viewing him through rose-coloured lenses or making excuses for him because he’s ‘family’. He puts up with Jiang Cheng’s behaviour because being his companion is one of his duties in the Jiang household. It may never have been directly stated, but there seems to be some unspoken understanding to this effect.

I honestly don’t know if there is any official role in history (in any culture, not just China) which perfectly correlates to this. In China a lady’s maid was expected to also be a close friend and companion to her mistress (in canon, see Bicao to Qin-furen and Yinzhu and Jinzhu to Yu-furen). In Europe an upper class woman would hire a lady’s companion, a woman from the lower fringes of the gentry who would serve as her companion in exchange for financial support.

I don’t know of any version of this role which involves two men. In general, this sort of role existed because upper class women were confined to the household by and large, and had very limited social spheres. Men, meanwhile, had much greater ability to meet with their peers and make friends. I almost feel like Wei Wuxian wound up being shoved into this role simply because even as a child Jiang Cheng was so unsociable that Jiang Fengmian didn’t know what else to do!

Wei Wuxian also at least once steps in and starts a fight in place of Jiang Cheng (essentially taking the fall for him). He does this when Jin Zixuan speaks disparagingly of Jiang Yanli at Cloud Recesses:

Jin ZiXuan asked in reply, “Why don’t you ask me how on Earth can I be satisfied with her?”

Jiang Cheng instantly stood up.

Pushing him to the side, Wei WuXian walked in front of him and sneered, “You sure think that you’re pretty satisfying, don’t you? Where did you get the guts to be all choosy here?”

[...]

Wei WuXian sighed, “… It’d be nice if shijie came. It’s fortunate that you didn’t hit him.”

Jiang Cheng, “I was going to. If you didn’t push me, the other side of Jin ZiXuan’s face would also be ruined.”

(Chapter 18, Exiled Rebels translation)

It’s also very notable that Wei Wuxian is never shown having friends outside of Jiang Cheng’s social circle, despite what an outgoing and friendly person he is. Any time he expresses interest in someone for himself, as with Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng tries to nip it in the bud. Being unable to deter Wei Wuxian from Lan Wangji directly, Jiang Cheng instead tries to drive a wedge between them, constantly telling Wei Wuxian that Lan Wangji hates him.

“Yeah,” Nie HuaiSang spoke, “It looks like he really hates you, Wei-xiong. Lan WangJi usually… No, he never does something so impolite.”

Wei WuXian, “He hates me already? I wanted to apologize to him.”

Jiang Cheng sneered, “Apologizing now? Too late! Like his uncle, he surely thinks that you are evil and unruly to the core, and didn’t bother to pay you any attention.”

(Chapter 14, Exiled Rebels translation)

Jiang Cheng pulled him even closer, “It’s not as if you’re familiar with him! Don’t you see how much he hates you? You’re going to carry him? He probably doesn’t even want you a step closer to him.”

(Chapter 52, Exiled Rebels translation)

He even directly orders Wei Wuxian not to invite Lan Wangji to come visit him at Lotus Pier during the Lotus Seed Pod extra.

Wei WuXian, “Why are you so upset? My watermelon almost flew away! I was just being polite. Of course he wouldn’t come. Have you ever heard of him go anywhere by himself to have fun?”

Jiang Cheng had on a stern expression, “Let’s make this clear. I don’t want him to come, anyhow. Don’t invite him.”

(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)

It’s not only Lan Wangji he tries to steer Wei Wuxian away from; he also interrupts his conversation with Wen Ning at the archery competition:

Wen QiongLin was probably one of Wen Clan’s disciples furthest in bloodline. His status was neither high nor low, yet his personality was timid. He didn’t dare do anything and even his speech stuttered. Through much practice, he had finally conjured up the courage to enter the competition, but he blew it because he was too nervous. If he didn’t receive the right guidance, perhaps the boy would hide his true self more and more from now on and never dare to perform in front of other people again. Wei WuXian encouraged him a couple of times and touched on a few areas of growth, correcting some miniscule problems that he had when he was shooting in the garden. Wen QiongLin listened so attentively that he didn’t even turn his eyes away, nodding uncontrollably.

Jiang Cheng, “Where did you find so much nonsense? The competition is starting soon. Get into the arena right now!”

Wei WuXian spoke to Wen QiongLin in a serious tone, “I’ll be off to the competition now. Later, you can see how I shoot when I’m in the arena…”

Jiang Cheng dragged him away, short of patience. He spat as he dragged, “See how you shoot? Do you think that you’re a model or something?!”

(Chapter 59, Exiled Rebels translation)

Even when it comes to Wei Wuxian’s friendly flirtation with Mianmian, Jiang Cheng has something to say and tries to deter him from her:

Jiang Cheng, “The one that MianMian gave you? I didn’t.”

Wei WuXian exclaimed his regret, “I’ll find her for another one later.”

Jiang Cheng frowned, “You’re at it again. You don’t really like her, do you? The girl does look fine, but it’s obvious that she doesn’t have much background. Maybe she isn’t even a disciple. She seems like the daughter of a servant.”

Wei WuXian, “What’s wrong with servants? I’m also the son of a servant, aren’t I?”

Jiang Cheng, “How can you compare to her? Whose servant is like you, having your master peel lotus seeds for you and boil you soup. I didn’t even get to have some!”

(Chapter 56, Exiled Rebels translation)

Jiang Cheng really does seem to view Wei Wuxian in a very proprietary light; he’s not allowed to have any friendships which don’t exist under Jiang Cheng’s direct control.

The idea that Wei Wuxian was meant to be Jiang Cheng’s servant-friend is reinforced at its darkest when Lotus Pier falls: both Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian’s last words to Wei Wuxian are an instruction to protect Jiang Cheng.

One hand holding him, Madam Yu grabbed Wei WuXian’s lapels with her other hand as though to strangle him to death. She spoke through clenched teeth, “… You damn little brat! I hate you! I hate you more than anything else! Look at what our sect has gone through for your sake!”

[...]

Madam Yu, “Don’t make such a fuss. It’ll loosen up when you’re somewhere safe. If anyone attacks you on the journey, it’ll protect you as well. Don’t come back. Go to Meishan straight away and find your sister!”

After she finished, she turned to Wei WuXian and pointed at him, “Wei Ying! Listen to me! Protect Jiang Cheng, protect him even if you die, do you understand?!”

[...]

Jiang FengMian stared into his eyes. Suddenly, he reached out. Only after pausing in the air did he finally touch Jiang Cheng’s head, slowly, “A-Cheng, be well.”

Wei WuXian, “Uncle Jiang, if anything happens to you, he won’t be well.”

Jiang FengMian turned his eyes to him, “A-Ying, A-Cheng… you must look after him.”

(Chapter 58, Exiled Rebels translation)

Even Jiang Fengmian, who supposedly favoured Wei Wuxian, only gives him instructions as pertains to his own son; he doesn’t spare a single last word for Wei Wuxian himself.

A Lower Status Family Member

It wasn’t uncommon throughout human history, across many cultures, for wealthy families to take in relatives who were orphaned or had otherwise fallen on hard times. They tended to have a lower status than the main family; they lived with them and were still a part of their social sphere, but were not quite equal, either. The English term for this is ‘poor relation’.

Obviously, Wei Wuxian isn’t actually a blood relative at all. But his position in the Jiang household definitely has some similarities. He lives in the main house, eats meals with the family, attends school with the son... He is even on some conditional levels accepted into the gentry of cultivation society. But he isn’t a full equal member of the family, either.

The fact that he’s Jiang Fengmian’s ward, not a blood relative or adopted into the main family, puts him at even more of a disadvantage. It seems that Jiang Fengmian paid for all of Wei Wuxian’s expenses:

Wei WuXian took a bite, “Back then, I didn’t even have to pay when I ate at the dock. I grabbed whatever I wanted, ate whatever I wanted; ran after I grabbed, walked as I ate. A month later, the vendor would get the reimbursement from Uncle Jiang.”

(Chapter 86, Exiled Rebels translation)

While this is a bit of conjecture, I gather that he was given access to family money as if he was part of the clan, and could just charge Yunmeng Jiang whenever he shopped in Lotus Pier. Which is great so long as Wei Wuxian is accepted in Yunmeng Jiang...but as we see during the Burial Mounds settlement period, the moment that acceptance fades, Wei Wuxian is left out in the cold without a single coin. And because he isn’t a member of the family, it’s a far easier matter for him to be thrown aside, as he was when Jiang Cheng grew angry with him over his decision to protect the Wens.

Of course, Chinese families traditionally did share their wealth, and still do nowadays. Ideally, in a loving family, this is a positive and means they all support each other; but when that isn’t the case, it leaves the victims of abuse vulnerable.

In Wei Wuxian’s case, he has some of the benefits of being a member of the Jiang clan, without ever actually being a member. He can be cast aside at any time, and he is never afforded the same respect by wider cultivation society which an inner clan member would have.

I don’t believe the novel ever directly addresses Wei Wuxian’s acceptance into the guest lectures at Cloud Recesses in this light, but the donghua actually has a very interesting little exchange about it which takes place between Nie Huaisang and a relative of his:

“Wei-xiong is just a disciple from Yunmeng. Why could he come to Gusu to study?”

“Wei-xiong is the son of Jiang-zongzhu’s old friend. He has been treated as their own son.”

“Oh, I see. That explains why they don’t look like master and servant, they seem like brothers.”

(MDZS Donghua, Episode 3, Guodong Subs)

Wei Wuxian was only allowed to attend these lectures, which seem to mainly be for sect heirs and inner clan members, on the grace of being Jiang Fengmian’s ward (and probably to accompany Jiang Cheng). While this exchange is not from the book, we never do see or hear about any of the other students being outer disciples rather than members of the main clan. Here’s what the novel had to say about it:

In that year, aside from the YunmengJiang Sect, there were also the young masters from other clans, sent to study here from parents who heard of the reputation. The young masters were all around fifteen or sixteen. Because the sects all knew the others, although they weren’t close, they had seen others’ faces before. It was widely known that, although Wei WuXian’s surname was not Jiang, he was the leading disciple of the sect leader of the YunmengJiang Sect—Jiang FengMian, and also the son of his friend who had passed away. In fact, the sect leader regarded him as his own child. This, along with how youths were not as concerned with status and ancestry as elders, they were soon friends. Only a few sentences passed, and everyone started to call others older brothers or younger brothers.

(Chapter 13, Exiled Rebels translation)

And Wei Wuxian isn’t treated as an equal at school, either; when he and his friends get up to mischief, he’s frequently the only one punished. Nie Huaisang even notes that Lan Qiren seems to be far harder on him than the other students:

Nie HuaiSang spoke, “Why does it seem like old man Lan is especially strict towards you? He always directs his scoldings at you.”

(Chapter 14, Exiled Rebels translation)

And we see Wei Wuxian being the sole one punished out of a group taken for granted by his friends multiple times:

As a result of cheating notes flying everywhere in the air, Lan WangJi suddenly attacked during the test, and caught a few initiators of the commotion. Lan QiRen exploded with anger, writing letters to the prominent clans to tell on them. He loathed Wei WuXian—in the beginning, although these disciples could hardly sit still, at least nobody started anything, and their buttocks were able to stick to their legs. However, now that Wei Ying came, the originally spineless brats were influenced by his encouragement, venturing out at night and drinking alcohol however they pleased. The unhealthy practices grew greater and greater. As he had expected, Wei Ying was one of the biggest threats to humanity!

Jiang FengMian replied, “Ying has always been like this. Please take care to discipline him, Mr. Lan.”

And so, Wei WuXian was punished again.

(Chapter 14, Exiled Rebels translation)

The boys were all cheating, but Wei Wuxian is the one punished most severely. This happens when he's caught sneaking alcohol, too (though to be fair to Lan Wangji, he probably was only punishing him, and himself alongside him, for being outside after curfew when he threw them off the wall).

Of course, Jiang Cheng didn’t dare to say that Wei WuXian was at fault. Thinking back, it was them who urged Wei WuXian to buy liquor. Each and every one of them should have been punished. He could only speak in a vague way, “It’s fine, it’s fine; it’s not that serious! He can walk. Wei WuXian, why are you still up there?!”

(Chapter 18, Exiled Rebels translation)

It’s not entirely unreasonable for the one who gets caught to take the punishment (what’s he going to do, rat his friends out?) but their ready acceptance of this does fit into a pattern.

Jiang Cheng’s top was tied at his waist. Hearing his mother’s chastise, he hastily put it over his head. Madam Yu scolded again, “And you boys! Can’t you see that A-Li’s here? Who taught you brats to dress like this in front of a girl!?”

Of course, it was needless to think who led the group. Thus, Madam Yu’s next sentence, as usual, was “Wei Ying! Do you want to die!?”

[...]

He could still feel some pain in his back, so he tossed the paddles to someone else, sat down, and felt the stinging piece of flesh, “How unfair. Nobody else was wearing anything, but why was I the only one who got scolded and beaten up?”

Jiang Cheng, “Because you hurt the eye the most with no clothes on, for sure.”

[...]

Everyone nodded. Wei WuXian, “Thanks for the praise, you guys. I’m even starting to feel some goose bumps.”

The shidi, “You’re welcome, Da-Shixiong. You protect us every single time. You deserve even more!”

(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)

While we know that Yu Ziyuan is an abusive person in general, she abuses Wei Wuxian far more harshly than anyone else, even the outer disciples. It’s made clear to us in Lotus Seed Pods that she whips him regularly over minor infractions:

Madam Yu was even angrier, “How dare you run! Come back right now and kneel!” As she spoke, she let loose her whip with a flip of her wrist. Wei WuXian felt a searing pain slash across his back. He loudly exclaimed, “Ow!” And almost tripped on the ground.

(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)

And that his back is heavily scarred from it:

He felt his back, covered in scars both old and new, and still couldn’t hold back the question he’d be thinking about, “How awfully unfair. Why is it that I’m the only one who gets beaten up, whenever something happens?”

(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)

Rumours about this even made it outside of Lotus Pier; during their visit to the ancestral hall years later, Lan Wangji even states that he heard about some of it:

Lan WangJi had on an expression of understanding, “Kneeling as punishment?”

Wei WuXian mused, “How did you know? That’s right. Madam Yu punished me almost every day.”

Lan WangJi nodded, “I have heard of a few things.”

Wei WuXian, “It’s so famous that even people outside Yunmeng, even you Gusu people know—how could it be ‘a few things’? But, to be honest, in all these years, I’ve never seen a second woman whose temper was as bad as Madam Yu’s. She told me to go to the ancestral hall and kneel no matter how small the matter was. Hahaha…”

(Chapter 87, Exiled Rebels translation)

Wei Wuxian’s lower social standing is definitely a part of why Yu Ziyuan is able to abuse him so terribly and receive little to no censure for it. Everyone at Lotus Pier simply takes it for granted, with the exception of Jiang Yanli who at least does try to deflect her mother when she is angry with Wei Wuxian:

Yet, all of a sudden, someone’s quiet voice drifted by Madam Yu’s ear, “Mom, do you want to eat some watermelon…”

[...]

Jiang YanLi almost cried from her mother’s pinching, mumbling, “Mom, A-Xian and the others were hiding here to relieve the heat and I came here on my own. Don’t blame them… Do… Do you want some watermelon… I don’t know who gave them to us, but it’s really sweet. Eating watermelon in the summer is great for cooling down and quenching thirst. I’ll cut them for you…”

(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)

She both tries to deflect her mother from her anger, and also outright states that Wei Wuxian and the other boys weren’t at fault. Jiang Yanli seems to be the only one at Lotus Pier who ever does this.

After the war, Wei Wuxian attends social events at Jiang Cheng’s side but is never quite treated as an equal, either. See how at the Flower Banquet, Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue greet Jiang Cheng but not him:

Suddenly, a voice spoke, “Sect Leader Nie, Sect Leader Lan.”

Hearing the familiar voice, Wei WuXian’s heart jumped. Nie MingJue turned around again. Jiang Cheng came over, dressed in purple, hand on his sword.

And the person standing beside Jiang Cheng was none other than Wei WuXian himself.

He saw himself walk with hands behind his back, wearing all black. A flute in the shade of ink stuck to his waist, hanging down with crimson colored tassels. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Jiang Cheng, he nodded in this direction to show respect. Attitude slightly arrogant, he took on a profound, disdainful appearance. As Wei WuXian saw the stance of his younger self, the root of his teeth even cringed in soreness. He felt that he really was pretentious, and itched to just beat the hell out of himself.

Lan WangJi also saw Wei WuXian, who stood beside Jiang Cheng. The tip of his brows twitched ever so slightly. Soon afterward, his light-colored eyes returned to where they were, still looking forward in that composed way. Jiang Cheng and Nie MingJue nodded at each other with grave faces. Neither had anything unnecessary to say. After a hasty greeting, the two walked their separate ways. Wei WuXian saw his black-clothed self glance around as he finally saw Lan WangJi. He looked as if he was about to speak before Jiang Cheng came over and stood to his side.

(Chapter 49, Exiled Rebels translation)

They then proceed to talk about him and his lack of a sword behind his back, never having said a word to Wei Wuxian himself:

Nie MingJue’s gaze turned over again, “Why does Wei Ying not carry his sword?”

Carrying one’s sword was like wearing formal attire. In such gatherings, it was a non-negligible indication of etiquette. Those from prominent sects saw it as especially important. Lan WangJi responded in a lukewarm tone, “He had probably forgotten.”

Ning MingJue raised a brow, “He can even forget something like this?”

(Chapter 49, Exiled Rebels translation)

At Phoenix Mountain it also seems that Wei Wuxian is conditionally a member of the gentry, but not treated like an equal. Sometimes there are these more cheerful interactions:

Holding the flower, Lan WangJi seemed to be quite cold. His tone seemed cold as well, “Was it you?”

Wei WuXian immediately denied it, “No, it wasn’t.”

The maidens beside him spoke at once, “Don’t believe him. It was him!”

Wei WuXian, “How could you treat a good person like this? I’m getting angry!”

Giggling, the maidens pulled their reins and went to the formations of their own sects. Lan WangJi lowered the hand that he held the flower with and shook his head. Jiang Cheng spoke, “ZeWu-Jun, HanGuang-Jun, apologies. Don’t pay attention to him.”

Lan XiChen smiled, “That is fine. I will thank Young Master Wei’s kindness behind the flower in place of WangJi.”

(Chapter 69, Exiled Rebels translation)

But then he will be publicly disparaged and it is readily accepted by others. Jin Zixun first starts an argument with him by criticising Wei Wuxian for fighting Jin Zixuan, then turns the topic to Wei Wuxian’s having taken a third of the prey in the hunt.

Jin ZiXun, “Wei, just what what do you mean by going against ZiXuan so many times?”

[...]

Jin ZiXun sneered, “How is it presumptuous? How is any part of you not presumptuous? Today, in such an important hunt involving all of the sects, you really showed off your abilities, didn’t you? One third of the prey have been taken by you. You sure feel pleased, don’t you?”

[...]

He mocked, “But it’s only natural that you don’t think you’re in the wrong. It’s not the first time that Young Master Wei has disregarded the rules. You didn’t wear your sword in both last time’s flower banquet and this time’s hunt. It’s such a grand event, and you care nothing for courtesy. In what regard to you hold us, the people who are present with you?”

[...]

No disciple had ever dared say such lofty words in front of so many people. A moment later, as Jin ZiXun finally regained his composure, he yelled, “Wei WuXian! You’re only the son of a servant—how dare you be so bold!!!”

(Chapters 69-70, Exiled Rebels translation)

Naturally, Jin Zixun is able to weasel out of giving an apology, even though Jiang Yanli demands one. And guess who also takes a third of the prey, but this time without any censure?

Jin GuangYao, “In reality, not only did Young Master Wei keep a third of the prey to himself, our eldest brother has eliminated over half of the fays and the monsters as well.”

Hearing this, Lan XiChen laughed, “That is how Brother is like, after all.”

(Chapter 70, Exiled Rebels translation)

Never a Brother

As I’ve already mentioned, Wei Wuxian was never adopted by Jiang Fengmian, or adopted into the clan in general in even a distant way. And this nebulous ‘we’re letting you live with the main family as a charity, but you aren’t really one of us’ attitude also reflects in his relationship with Jiang Yanli.

I’ve already discussed how Wei Wuxian was more like a companion servant to Jiang Cheng than a brother. It’s also worth noting quickly that neither of them ever refers to the other as a brother. Wei Wuxian refers to Jiang Cheng as his shidi a few times, and Jiang Cheng never even refers to him as his shixiong (because Jiang Cheng views him as his servant, not as even a martial brother, I’d argue).

Only one member of the Jiang family ever does use familial terms to refer to Wei Wuxian: his shijie, Jiang Yanli. At Phoenix Mountain, when Wei Wuxian is being insulted by Jin Zixun, Jiang Yanli stands up and defends him, and states clearly that she considers Wei Wuxian a little brother:

The people who gathered around Jin ZiXun had on the same dark faces as he did. Yet, taking into consideration Jiang YanLi’s background, they didn’t dare talk back to her directly.

Jiang YanLi added, “Besides, hunting is hunting, so why bring the matter of discipline to the table? A-Xian is a disciple of the YunmengJiang Sect. He grew up with my brother and I, and so he’s as close as a brother is to me. Calling him the ‘son of a servant’—I’m sorry, but I won’t accept this. And thus…”

She straightened her back and raised her voice, “I hope that Young Master Jin ZiXun would apologize to Wei WuXian of the YunmengJiang Sect!”

(Chapter 70, Exiled Rebels translation)

It doesn’t come through in the Exiled Rebels translation, but she actually refers to Wei Wuxian as her didi in this scene, not her shidi. She’s trying to draw a line and state that Wei Wuxian is a part of the family. However, no one takes her seriously, and shortly afterwards we see Jin-furen insisting that Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian shouldn’t be walking alone together because it would be inappropriate.

Jiang YanLi whispered, “That’s not necessary. I’d like to have a few words with A-Xian. He can walk me back.”

Madam Jin raised her brows, looking Wei WuXian up and down. Her gaze was somewhat cautious, as if she was feeling displeased, “A young man and a young woman—you two can’t stick together all the time if nobody else is present.”

Jiang YanLi, “A-Xian is my younger brother.”

[...]

Wei WuXian lowered his head, “Excuse my absence, Madam Jin.”

He and Jiang YanLi bowed at the same time. As they turned around to leave, Madam Jin grabbed Jiang YanLi’s hand and refused to let her leave.

(Chapter 70, Exiled Rebels translation)

Jin Zixuan also never treats Wei Wuxian the way one might a brother who is still angered with him over his past dismissive treatment of his sister. For example, see their argument at the Flower Banquet:

Before he could see how Lan WangJi reacted, a series of clamor suddenly came from the other end of the base. Wei WuXian heard his own raging shout, “Jin ZiXuan! Don’t you forget about what things you said and what things you did? What do you mean by this, now?!”

Wei WuXian remembered. So it was this time!

On the other side, Jin ZiXuan also fumed, “I was asking Sect Leader Jiang, not you! The one I was asking about was also Maiden Jiang. How is that related to you?!”

[...]

Jin ZiXuan, “Sect Leader Jiang—this is our sect’s flower banquet, and this is your sect’s person! Are you going to look after him or not?!”

[...]

...Jiang Cheng’s voice came, “Wei WuXian, you can just shut your mouth. Young Master Jin, I’m sorry. My sister is doing quite well. Thank you for your concern. We can talk about this next time.”

Wei WuXian laughed coldly, “Next time? There is no next time! Whether or not she’s doing well isn’t any of his business, either! Who does he think he is?”

He turned around and started to leave. Jiang Cheng shouted, “Get back here! Where are you going?”

Wei WuXian waved his hands, “Anywhere is fine! Just don’t let me see that face of his. I never wanted to come, anyway. You can deal with whatever’s here yourself.”

Having been abandoned by Wei WuXian, Jiang Cheng’s face immediately clouded over.

[...]

Jiang Cheng stowed away the clouds on his face, “Don’t mind him. Look at how impolite he is. He’s used to such rude behavior at home.”

He then began to converse with Jin ZiXuan.

(Chapter 49, Exiled Rebels translation)

Jiang Cheng also quietly dismisses the notion of Wei Wuxian as a brother in relation to Jiang Yanli; when they visit to show him her wedding dress and she asks for a courtesy name, Jiang Cheng specifically says:

Jiang Cheng, “The courtesy name of my unborn nephew.”

(Chapter 75, Exiled Rebels translation)

Not our nephew, mine.

Even the disastrous invitation to Jin Ling’s one month celebration is framed as a favour to an old shidi, not a family member:

Jin ZiXun, “Since you’ve heard it from him already, you should know that I can’t wait. Don’t tell me that you’ll disregard your brother’s life for the sake of Sister-in-Law’s shidi?!”

Jin ZiXuan, “You clearly know that I’m not that kind of person! He might not necessarily be the one who cursed you with Hundred Holes either. Why are you so rash? I was the one who invited Wei WuXian to A-Ling’s full-month celebration anyways. If this is the way you do things, where does that leave me? Where does it leave my wife?”

Jin ZiXun raised his voice, “It’s best if he doesn’t attend! What does Wei WuXian think he is—does he deserve to attend our sect’s banquet? Whoever touches him gets nothing but a splash of black! ZiXuan, when you invited him, weren’t you worried that you, Sister-in-Law and A-Ling would receive an irremovable stain for the rest of your lives?!”

(Chapter 76, Exiled Rebels translation)

It’s clear that not only does wider society not consider Wei Wuxian and the Jiangs siblings...they themselves don’t, either. Wei Wuxian, after all, readily accepts that his relationship with them is over after he leaves the sect:

Before they parted, Jiang Cheng spoke, “We won’t see you off. It wouldn’t be good if someone saw us.”

Wei WuXian nodded. He understood that it wasn’t easy for the Jiang siblings to have come out here. If someone else saw them, all those things they did for the public to believe would be wasted. He spoke, “We’ll go first.”

[...]

He turned around, knowing that it’d be a long time before he’d get to see the people he was familiar with again.

But… right now, wasn’t he on his way to seeing people he was familiar with as well?

(Chapter 75, Exiled Rebels translation)

Cast Aside

The way cultivation society treats Wei Wuxian when he is not with the Jiangs is also very revealing. Any level of respect he is given is contingent on his position in the Jiang household, and when they aren’t around that minimal respect fades away. Look at how disrespectfully he is treated when he approaches Jin Zixun to ask for Wen Ning’s location.

Wei WuXian didn’t make small talk either, getting straight to the point, “No thanks. I don’t.” He nodded slightly at Jin ZiXun, “Young Master Jin, could I please have a word with you?”

Jin ZiXun, “If you have anything to say, come after our banquet is over.”

In reality, he didn’t want to talk to Wei WuXian at all. Wei WuXian could see this as well, “How long do I have to wait?”

Jin ZiXun, “Probably around six to eight hours. Or maybe ten to twelve. Or until tomorrow.”

Wei WuXian, “I’m afraid I can’t wait for that long.”

Jin ZiXun’s voice was arrogant, “You’ll have to wait even if you can’t.”

Jin GuangYao, “Young Master Wei, what do you need ZiXun for? Is it a pressing matter?”

Wei WuXian, “Pressing indeed. It allows for no delay.”

[...]

Jin ZiXun, “Wei WuXian, what do you mean? You came for him? You aren’t standing up for a Wen-dog, are you?”

Wei WuXian wore a broad grin, “Since when is it your business whether I’d like to stand up for him or cut his head off? Just give him to me!”

At the last sentence, the grin on his face vanished. His tone turned cold as well. It was clear that he had lost his patience. Many of the people within Glamor Hal shivered in fear. Jin ZiXun felt his scalp tingle as well. Yet, his anger soon soared. He shouted, “Wei WuXian, you are too bold! Did the LanlingJin Sect invite you today? And you dare run wild here. Do you really think that you’re invincible, that nobody has the courage to confront you? Do you want to overturn the Heavens?”

Wei WuXian smiled, “You’re comparing yourself to the Heavens? Excuse my language, but your face is a little too thick, isn’t it?”

[...]

Just as he was about to rebut, sitting on the foremost seat, Jin GuangShan spoke up.

His voice seemed kind, “It’s not anything too important anyways. You youngsters, why lose your tempers over such a thing? However, Young Master Wei, let me be fair here. Barging in when the LanlingJin Sect is holding a private banquet is indeed inappropriate.”

To say that Jin GuangShan didn’t mind what happened at Phoenix Mountain would be impossible. This was also why he only smiled when Jin ZiXun bickered with Wei WuXian but didn’t stop them, and only spoke up when Jin ZiXun was at the disadvantage.

Wei WuXian nodded, “Sect Leader Jin, it was never my intention to disturb your private banquet. My apologies. However, the whereabouts of the people whom Young Master Jin took are still unclear. Just a moment of delay, and it might be too late. One of the group had once saved me before. I will definitely not sit back and watch. Please do not feel pressured. I will make amends for this at a later date.”

[...]

After a few laughs, he continued, “Sect Leader Jin, let me ask you something else. Do you think that, because the QishanWen Sect is gone, the LanlingJin Sect has all right to replace it?”

All was silent within Glamor Hall.

Wei WuXian added, “Everything has to be given to you? Everyone has to listen to you? Looking at how the LanlingJin Sect does things, I almost thought that it was the QishanWen Sect’s empire all over again.”

[...]

A guest cultivator on his right shouted, “Wei WuXian! Watch your words!”

Wei WuXian, “Did I say something wrong? Forcing living people to be bait and beating them up whenever they refused to obey—is this any different from what the QishanWen Sect does?”

Another guest cultivator stood up, “Of course it’s different. The Wen-dogs did all kinds of evil. To arrive at such an end is only karma for them. We only avenged a tooth for a tooth, letting them taste the fruit that they themselves had sown. What’s wrong with this?”

Wei WuXian, “Take revenge on the ones who bite you. Wen Ning’s branch doesn’t have much blood on their hands. Don’t tell me that you find them guilty by association?”

Another person spoke, “Young Master Wei, is it that they don’t have much blood on their hands just because you say so? These are only your one-sided words. Where’s the evidence?”

[...]

Jin GuangShan stood up as well, his face a mixture of shock, anger, fear, and hatred, “Wei WuXian! Just because… Sect Leader Jiang isn’t here doesn’t mean you can be so reckless!”

Wei WuXian’s voice was harsh, “Do you think that I wouldn’t be reckless if he were here? If I wanted to kill someone, who could stop me, and who would dare stop me?!”

[...]

“Young Master Wei really is too impulsive. How could he speak in such a way in front of so many sects?”

Lan WangJi spoke coldly, “Was he wrong?”

Jin GuangYao paused almost unnoticeably. He immediately laughed, “Haha. Yes, he’s right. But it’s because he’s right that he can’t say it in front of them, correct?”

Lan XiChen seemed as if he was deep in thought, “Young Master Wei’s heart really has changed.”

(Chapter 72, Exiled Rebels translation)

The only person at this banquet who speaks to Wei Wuxian respectfully is Jin Guangyao, a consummate manipulator who is also of a lower social status. Everyone else speaks to him dismissively, refusing to respect his request for Wen Ning’s location even though he states that Wen Ning helped him during the war. Wei Wuxian is extremely polite at the beginning of this conversation, and only slowly begins to lose his temper when Jin Zixun speaks rudely and Jin Guangshan decides to bring up the matter of the Yinhufu (Wei Wuxian is right in suspecting him of wanting to replace Qishan Wen, of course, and that it’s very bold of them to think they have the right to a spiritual tool of his just because...they’re rich?).

When the sects meet at Koi Tower to discuss the breakout at Qiongqi Path, no one considers Wei Wuxian as an independent agent who they might actually want to meet and negotiate with themselves. He is a wayward servant of Yunmeng Jiang who the sect leader has failed to keep in hand.

Jiang Cheng only spoke after a few moments, “What he did was indeed a bit too much. Sect Leader Jin, I apologize to you in place of him. If there’s any way at all to help the situation, please let me know. I’ll definitely compensate for things however I can.”

[...]

Jin GuangShan, “Sect Leader Jiang, Wei Ying is your right-hand man. You value him a lot. All of us know this. However, on the other hand, it’s hard to tell whether or not he actually respects you. In any case, I’ve been a sect leader for so many years and I’ve never seen the servant of any sect dare be so arrogant, so proud. Have you heard what they say outside? Things like how during the Sunshot Campaign the victories of the YunmengJiang Sect were all because of Wei WuXian alone—what nonsense!”

[...]

Lan WangJi sat with his back straight, speaking in a tone of absolute tranquility, “I did not hear Wei Ying say this. I did not hear him express the slightest disrespect towards Sect Leader Jiang either.”

[...]

The good thing was that, not long after he felt awkward, Jin GuangYao came to save the day, exclaiming, “Really? That day, Young Master Wei busted into Koi Tower with such force. He said too many things, one more shocking than the next. Perhaps he said a few things that were along those lines. I can’t remember them either.”

[...]

Jin GuangShan followed the transition, “That’s right. Anyhow, his attitude has always been arrogant.”

One of the sect leaders added, “To be honest, I’ve wanted to say this since a long time ago. Although Wei WuXian did a few things during the Sunshot Campaign, there are many guest cultivators who did more than him. I’ve never seen anyone as full of themselves as him. Excuse my bluntness, but he’s the son of a servant. How could the son of a servant be so arrogant?”

[...]

“In the beginning, Sect Leader Jin asked Wei Ying for the Tiger Seal with nothing but good intentions, worried that he wouldn’t be able to control it and lead to a disaster. He, however, used his own yardstick to measure another’s intents. Did he think that everyone is after his treasure? What a joke. In terms of treasures, is there any sect that doesn’t hold a few treasures?”

“I knew that something would eventually happen if he continued on the ghostly path—look! His killing intents are being revealed already. Killing indiscriminately those from our side just because of a few Wen-dogs…”

[...]

Jin GuangShan continued, “Sect Leader Jiang, you’re not like your father. It’s just been a couple of years since the reestablishment of the YunmengJiang Sect, precisely when you should be displaying your power. And he doesn’t even know to avoid suspicions. What would the Jiang Sect’s new disciples think if they saw him? Don’t tell me you’d let them see him as their role model and look down on you?”

He spoke one sentence after another, striking the iron while it was still hot. Jiang Cheng spoke slowly, “Sect Leader Jin, that’s enough. I’ll go to Burial Mound and deal with this.”

Jin GuangShan felt satisfied, speaking in a sincere tone, “That’s the spirit. Sect Leader Jiang, there are some things, some people that you shouldn’t put up with.”

(Chapter 73, Exiled Rebels translation)

This is very reminiscent of the way that Jin Zixuan would often turn around and say, ‘Why aren’t you controlling your servant?’ to Jiang Cheng whenever he had a dispute with Wei Wuxian over his treatment of Jiang Yanli.

When Jiang Cheng goes to the Burial Mounds and Wei Wuxian defects from Yunmeng Jiang in order to help the sect save face, Jiang Cheng treats this as a personal betrayal. He not only challenges Wei Wuxian to a duel but then announces that Wei Wuxian has betrayed Yunmeng Jiang and declared himself the enemy of cultivation society:

After the fight, Jiang Cheng told the outside that Wei WuXian defected from the sect and was an enemy to the entire cultivation world. The YunmengJiang Sect had already cast him out. From then on, no ties remained between them—a clear line was drawn. Henceforth, no matter what he did, they’d have nothing to do with the YunmengJiang Sect!

(Chapter 73, Exiled Rebels translation)

“Wei Wuxian has betrayed the sect, and publicly regards all cultivation sects as enemy! Yunmeng Jiang Sect hereby expels him, breaking all ties with him and drawing a clear line between us. Henceforth, no matter what this person does, it will have nothing to do with Yunmeng Jiang Sect!”

(Modao Zushi Radio Drama, Season 3 Episode 5, Suibian Subs)

Naturally, no one ever questions this or wants to hear Wei Wuxian’s side of the story. Jiang Cheng is a sect leader and Wei Wuxian his servant, and that is all cultivation society needs to know.

In Conclusion

Wei Wuxian was never really part of the Jiang family. The wider social view was that he was a servant who was lucky to be taken in by the family and allowed to live in the main house alongside the sect leader’s children. He’s accepted into cultivation society conditionally, but only as someone who remains a rank below everyone else.

This attitude isn’t just the wider social view which the family themselves disregard; they all play into it. Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Cheng both actively enforce it, Jiang Fengmian passively enforces it, and Jiang Yanli tries but fails to break through the social barriers between them.

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin and the Jedi Babies: A Child's Ink

Context: Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono

WARNINGS: underage characters get tattoos/piercings

Word Count: 5680 Rating: T Ships: primarily Gen (Disaster Lineage + Shmi), offscreen JangoShmi, past Obitine, past Anidala ----

Ylliben Skywalker is known as a preternaturally calm and quiet child, serious and pensive.

He jokes. He roughhouses. He is as responsive to tickle attacks and shoulder rides and warm hugs as any other child.

But he is Jetii'Manda, not just Mando'ade, and that fact is impossible to forget.

This is a child that can read before he can speak, a child who can talk at length about 'grassroots antiestablishment propaganda and its influence on rural sociological development' before he can say the words without a lisp. This is a child who looks a man in the eye and tells him to check over his blaster one last time, or it will explode in his hand only minutes into the next engagement. This is a child who is not only willing, but capable of discussing the plausible ramifications of Duke Adonai Kryze's latest decrees with Jaster Mereel himself, while still in possession of all his baby teeth.

(His father is not worried by this. Upset, sometimes, pained and tired, but not worried.)

(His sister only laughs.)

It is, as a result, not as surprising as it could be, when a six-year-old wanders his way into Na-Tsuyon's parlor and asks her what the risks of getting a tattoo at his age are.

"I'm not having that conversation with you unless your parent is here," she says. A few of the other artists crane their heads in her direction, but she waves them off.

"I'm not trying to get it right this moment," Ben protests. "I'm just gathering information. He said that was fine."

"Still need your parent here here," she tells him.

He leaves for about ten minutes, and then comes back with a tall, gangling figure in tow.

"I hear this isn't the place for unaccompanied minors," Knight Skywalker jokes.

(She has heard him called a General. She does not know which war he fought. Nobody does.)

(They no longer ask.)

"Well, he is young," she says, brushing her tentacles back over a shoulder. "I don't let anyone under human-fourteen get tattooed without a parent on hand, and giving preliminary information to anyone under twelve is... generally not worth it, shall we say."

Skywalker smiles, oddly amused in the way he always is when someone points out his children need supervision. "Glad to hear it. Are you the Na-Tsuyon whose name is on the door?"

"I am," she says. "And you're Knight Skywalker."

He's pleased at that. She can feel it in the chemical receptors of her head tails, and wonders. "Yep. So, do we jump right into the discussion or do you need me to sign something, or..."

"No, it's enough that you're here," she assures him. "Now, the main reasons we discourage tattoos for younger sentients is the distortion factor. While the level of pain is much lower than it would have been several millennia ago, and we have the technology to remove ink from below the skin, a tattoo before your body stops growing will distort as you grow and your skin stretches. You would need to come in yearly for touch-ups, to remove the sections that have moved out of place, and fill in where the ink is no longer settled."

"That makes sense," Ylliben says. He looks up at his father, and then back to her. "You'd be able to tell me if any of my choices would be... bad for a Mandalorian, yes?"

"I would," she confirms. She glances up at Knight Skywalker. "I don't suppose you have any history of getting tattoos?"

"No," he says. "I'm from Tatooine, so..."

Different connotations to the very act of it, for him.

She ducks her head in a nod. "I understand. Generally it's easier if the parent has experience in the process, but it's far from mandatory. You're willing to work with the distortion maintenance?"

"Yes'm," Ylliben says, and his father shrugs and gestures, as if the word of a six-year-old is thus law.

"I'll walk you through the details of the process, including the care, relevant allergies, and so on. I don't suppose you have anything in mind already?" she asks.

"I do," he says. He doesn't tell her what it is, yet.

Anakin Skywalker stays there the entire time, and they make an appointment for later in the week.

----

"My buir isn't my only father," Ylliben says quietly, when it comes time to get details on what he's getting tattooed. "I had another father before him. A Jedi. He died, to protect me, and a lot of other people. So, um..."

He shoves a picture to her, the symbol of the Jedi, plain and simple. She looks at him.

"In red," he says, shifting on his feet, looking up at his father and then back down at the page. "For, um, to honor a parent."

"Your first father was a Jedi?" she asks, gentle as she can.

"Mm-hm," Ylliben says. "He died, um... he saved buir from slavery, too, a long time ago. Both my dads were Jedi, and I'm going to be one, too, and so is Sokanth. It's--it's about where I come from, and--"

"You don't have to justify it if you don't want to," Na-Tsuyon tells him, reaching out to place one hand on his. It's very warm and dry, in her opinion, but she finds that most humans are. Mandalorians are some 80% human, or near human.

Nautolan Mandalorians aren't unheard of, but she's a rare one.

Ben sucks in a breath, and says, "I want it up here, on my right shoulder, like a pauldron."

Na-Tsuyon nods, and looks up to Skywalker. "You'll have to sign some papers to approve it, Master Jedi. You approve of the design?"

Skywalker hesitates, and then goes to one knee in front of his son, and speaks so quietly she can only hear "--remind you of the generator complex?"

Whatever Ben's answer is, it's too quiet for her to catch. It satisfies Skywalker, though, and he stands. "Alright, let's see this paperwork."

----

When Ylliben comes in again, a year later to get his slightly-twisting tattoo fixed, it's with Miss Shmi in tow. Na-Tsuyon greets the middle Skywalker, for all that she's still not entirely sure how to address the girl. "I heard you've been attending the university at Sundari. Some kind of engineering?"

"Mechanical, yes," Shmi says, oddly soft. "I'm going to spend another year to specialize in vehicular engineering. I'd like to design starships, since I already know how to fix them."

"A worthy goal," Na-Tsuyon says, as she leads them over to one of the stations and starts sanitizing Ylliben's inked shoulder. She doesn't entirely see why a university education is needed for something that, in her opinion, an apprenticeship could more thoroughly cover. It certainly worked well enough Na-Tsuyon herself. "You're on vacation, then?"

"I am," Shmi confirms. "It's... unfortunate that Anakin couldn't be here a the same time, but we'll see each other in a few days."

Ylliben fidgets for a bit as his jedi symbol is fixed, and then finally asks, "Ori'vod can approve new tattoos, right?"

"Sokanth, no. Shmi..." Na-Tsuyon looks up at her. "I have no idea if you're listed as his legal guardian anywhere, and I'd need proof of that."

"Secondary to Anakin," Shmi confirms. "Ben would like this to be a surprise for Ani."

Ben pulls out a sheet, with a careful design on it, and presses it into Na-Tsuyon's lap when she lifts the tattoo gun and he's not at risk of ruining his own ink. It's simpler than the Jedi symbol, though it's two colors instead of one.

"It's the Open Circle Fleet," Ben says, shy in a way she's given to understand he usually isn't. She thinks his shyer moments may be connected to admitting to emotion, something that he's tying quite closely to his choice of Tattoos. "I thought, um, since I'm already--already honoring one buir, then, er..."

"The Open Circle Fleet was under the command of my brother's Jedi Master," Shmi explains, one hand on Ben's. "And I am given to understand that the symbol was designed as a subtle nod, of sorts, to the two of them as a team. Ben's looking to honor Anakin as he has his first father."

Ben looks down at his lap, and doesn't meet Na-Tsuyon's eyes.

"Bring me proof of guardianship," she tells them. "And I'll make sure you get it finished early enough that the bacta comes off before Knight Skywalker makes it home."

She holds true to her word, and talks her way into being there to see the reunion and reveal.

The emotions that cross Skywalker's face are complicated and unexpected in ways that she can't identify.

Then it's all too simple, because he starts crying on little Ylliben in the middle of the hangar.

----

It doesn't take a full year for Ylliben to come in for another set. It's only five months, maybe six. He has a sketch again, a geometric design of something she doesn't recognize, but still pings as familiar for some reason.

"It needs to be the right shade of blue," he tells her, serious as anything. Knight Skwyalker is right next to him, smiling all soft and indulgent, and maybe a little sad. "It's for Soka."

Oh. This is based on her facial markings, then. Or... what they will be, maybe. This doesn't look quite like what she's seen on the girl, but everyone knows little Ben is more touched by visions than his father and sister.

Na-Tsuyon thinks she knows where this is going. "The same blue as her montrals and lekku?"

Ben shakes his head. "No, 501st blue."

Or not.

"It's close, but a little darker and more saturated," Skywalker offers, and shrugs when she looks his way. "It's a long story, but the 501st was the legion I led before I arrived at Mandalore. It had a specific shade of blue assigned for armor paint, so legions could easily identify each other in the field."

That's... odd. She doesn't ask for more detail, though. It's not her business. "Where do you want this one?"

Ben shows her his left forearm and frames a section about two-thirds the length of it, along the outer side. Like a vambrace.

She has a feeling all these symbols will be on his armor, once he's old enough for it.

"Let's go through my inks and see which one will work best," she says, and does not comment on the rest.

----

When Ylliben comes in again, a few months before his next touch-up appointment, he doesn't have an image on hand. His father is trailing him again, and Na-Tsuyon has a guess.

"Time for Shmi?" she asks.

Ben ducks his head, flushing and not meeting Na-Tsuyon's eyes. "Yes'm."

"I thought as much," she says, and smiles at Skywalker. "General."

"Don't start."

"There have been oh so many rumors flying since the last Jedi run-in, you know."

"I don't care," he grouses, dropping into a seat. "Hells, a man takes emergency command for one battle, and it's all anyone can talk about."

"You ended a civil war, sir."

Ben giggles into his hands as Skywalker groans and slaps a hand over his eyes.

"No respect," the man complains. "Ben, be nice to me, I'm your dad."

"Nuh-uh," Ben says. "I know all the most embarrassing secrets."

"A cruel child," Skywalker accuses. "Ruthless."

"You're the one raising me," Ben says, swinging his legs back and forth. He's got plastoid training vambraces, now, and greaves that clink against the legs of the chair.

"Somehow, yes." Skywalker sighs, with great drama and all such things. He drags himself up to sitting. "Anyway. Moving on."

"Do you have something in mind already?" Na-Tsuyon asks.

"Binary suns," Ben says. "Just two overlapping circles, coin-sized, one bigger than the other, in sunset colors. In a gradient, with a sort of... flare to it? Halo? The... oh! The stellar corona. Buir knows the colors better."

"I want to see what you have to work with before I sketch out the design," Skywalker says. "But yeah, sort of pink and yellow and peachy."

"I can do almost any color," Na-Tsuyon promises. "Especially on fair human skin like Ylliben's. I won't have a problem getting those to show up the way I would on myself."

Na-Tsuyon is a color most would call 'aquamarine.' She's a light shade between blue and green, and much as she likes her skin, it's an absolute pain to make red and orange show up.

She can do it.

It's just annoying.

Ben asks for this one to be on the inside of the left forearm, high and opposite to the widest point of the mark for Sokanth.

----

"Can I see your fonts?"

Ben's alone, for the moment, but Na-Tsuyon knows that when he makes his decision, his father or Shmi will approve it without question. It's no harm to let him browse.

"Basic, Mando'a, or Huttese alphabet?" she asks. "Or something more esoteric?"

"Mando'a, please."

He's eight years old, now. He's still far younger than most of her clients, but she's long gotten used to him. Even when he's acting like a child, there's something to it that doesn't quite sit right. 'Born middle-aged,' a few of the other civilians on base had joked.

She wasn't sure if she thought it was just a joke, these days.

Na-Tsuyon passes her fonts book to the boy, and settles back in her chair for a long afternoon of running numbers. He, meanwhile, goes to sit in the lobby, legs still not long enough to reach the floor, paging through with unwavering, unsettling gravitas.

Half an hour, and then Ben returns.

He points to a font. "This one."

"What's it going to say?"

"Vode An," he tells her, as serious as can be. "In black, over my heart. It's important."

"It's a fairly common phrase," she notes idly. "Should be quick."

She doesn't expect much of a response, and certainly not the one she gets.

"It was different for them," Ben mutters, not looking at her. She sees him twisting the toes of one shoe into the floor. "It was... it was different. I can't talk about it. They were brothers, actually brothers, and they had--they had nothing, they were basically slaves, but--"

"You don't have to talk about it," Na-Tsuyon assures him, a hand on his. "You don't have to explain it to me. If it means something to you, that's all that matters. I just need you to be sure."

"And buir to sign the paperwork," Ben quips, smiling at her. She notices that several teeth are missing. It's cute. "You need that too."

"That too," she agrees.

When Skywalker shows up, he hears what it is that Ben would like, and makes a few suggestions for a border--a gear that sounded too much like the Republic's symbol for a Mando'a phrase, a building on stilts from a city she's never heard of on a planet that rings no bells, a human genetic strand for reasons she can't imagine--most of which are soundly ignored, until Skywalker sketched out a stylized ship of... some sort.

"Venator," Skywalker says, and taps the image. "Nobody will know it except us, but it'll mean something to you, for them."

Ben looks at it for a long moment, and then takes the scrap of flimsi with Mando'a on it and lays it overtop the center of the sketch.

He stares at it for a few long moments, and then nods sharply and pushes it to Na-Tsuyon. "This, please."

He's such a polite child.

It makes it easier to ignore the more confusing parts of his presence in her parlor.

----

"Hi!"

Sokanth Skywalker is in her shop.

That's new.

"Hello," Na-Tsuyon says. "I didn't know you were thinking of getting ink."

"I'm not," she says, hopping up on a stool across the counter. She holds out a hand, and Na-Tsuyon clasps it with bemusement. "But you guys do piercings too, right?"

"We do," she confirms. "You're... ten?"

"Yep!" Sokanth chirps, kicking her legs back and forth. "Is that old enough to get these without permission, or should I ask my dad to come by?"

"At least twelve for piercings without in-person, signed approval from a parent or guardian," Na-Tsuyon says. "Though if you're anything like your brother, I don't imagine that'll be a problem for you."

Sokanth grins at her, bright and a little wild. "Nose, bottom lip, eyebrow. I don't know the actual terms, but I know what I want. Which do you suggest getting first?"

"I'd say nostril," Na-Tsuyon tells her. Most species even vaguely humanoid kick off with the ears, but that's not exactly an option for a togruta. "Let me get a chart and you can figure out what type of piercing you want, and what kind of hoop or stud. I don't actually do the piercings myself, though. Comm the General if you want this done today, though."

"Thank you~!"

----

Nostril, labret, and a horizontal brow, the piercer notes down at the end of the latest Skywalker visit. Na-Tsuyon wonders if the brow piercing will look strange with Soka's markings, and then doesn't think on it further.

----

Ylliben, almost nine, is silent as he gets the touch-up.

His father isn't here. Neither is Shmi. It's pre-approved, signed permission and all, but it's still odd that neither of Ben's adults is here.

Sokanth is, but she's almost as quiet as Ben is.

Na-Tsuyon has heard the rumors, but she's not going to say anything. She's not. It's not her business.

"Ben," Soka speaks up, towards the end of the appointment. "Ask her the thing."

Ben shakes his head. "No way."

"She knows more about tattoos and how important they are than anyone!" Soka urges. "Ask her!"

"Do you want to wait for your father?" Na-Tsuyon suggests.

"No!" both immediately yelp.

She pauses, glad the needle hadn't been to skin, and levels a look at Ben. He flushes and settles down, mumbling an apology for jerking as he had. She goes back to fixing the stretch of the binary suns tattoo.

Soka shifts in her seat, watching them intently.

"Shmi's upset with buir," Ben suddenly says. He doesn't meet Na-Tsuyon's eyes. "I'm... I don't know if you heard what's going on."

"I do my best to avoid rumors," she says, keeping her voice as neutral as she can. "I did hear that the Mand'alor is about to have a grandchild, and something about an upcoming wedding. That much has been announced officially."

"Dad freaked out," Soka says, legs kicking back and forth. "He's happy for her, and he's fine with Jango being the other parent, but it kicked off a... philosophical crisis? Ben, what do you think?"

"Metaphysical, maybe," Ben mumbles. "Definitely existential."

"And he told Shmi some stuff and now she's hurt that he didn't tell her before and it's all a mess," Soka finishes. "So, uh, we don't... want either of them involved. Until. Um. Until that's settled."

Na-Tsuyon bites back any deeper questions she might have. "Alright. I won't pry. What did you want to know from me?"

"I had a plan for what I was going to get next," Ben says, staring at the fold of fabric over his sister's knees in lieu of something more pertinent. "A peace lily, on the inside of my wrist, for..."

"You don't have to tell me," she reminds him.

Ben bites his lip, and closes his eyes, and breathes in deep. Neither of the girls comment.

"She was important," Ben finally says. "In the big memories. But she doesn't... she's not... she isn't here. And Jango is. And he's marrying Shmi, and they're having a baby, so I should put a mark down for him first, right?"

"He's gonna be Mand'alor, too," Soka adds.

"He is," Na-Tsuyon says, as neutral as she can.

"He's joining the family," Ben says, his gaze fixed on the floor in front of him. "And there's going to be a baby, and that's. That's important."

"There's no order that you have to get things in," Na-Tsuyon assures him, squeezing his shoulder in a light gesture of support. "You've prioritized family so far, so I think it would make sense to get a mark for the coming cousin, at least. Unless... is the lily for your birth mother?"

Ben's face twists, uncomfortable for some reason she can't begin to guess at.

"No," Ben says.

"Skyguy's Jedi Master did almost marry her when they were younger," Soka explains. She glances at Na-Tsuyon and then away and at the wall. "They had a whole dramatic 'forbidden romance' thing going on, 'cause Jedi aren't supposed to get married. She died before Ben came into the picture, though."

It's a neat enough explanation.

It feels fake, but much of what the Skywalkers say about their pasts does.

She's sure it's true in some way. In some perspective. From... from a certain point of view, maybe.

"Alright, then," Na-Tsuyon dismisses. "All things aside, I would suggest adjusting your order of tattoo acquisition, but there's no particular requirement by Mandalorian standards. Your choices are rarely anything that intersects with set traditions, nor do you have a historic clan or house that comes with mandates of the sort. It seems that you're leaning towards prioritizing something for the new additions to your family, though; you've made it clear that these things are important to you, and I think you should pursue it if you're comfortable with it."

Ben nods, eyes somewhere far off.

"It'll make him flustered," Soka pushes, kicking lightly at her brother's ankle. "Jan-Jan's still worried you don't like him anymore."

"He is not," Ben huffs. "He's just scared of buir."

"Nah, your opinion matters too," Soka argues. "And you've been avoiding everyone 'cuz Skyguy freaked out and Shmi's upset, so Jango's worried you're mad at him about the baby happening. If you get a tattoo about him, he might actually cry."

"Is that why you want me to take that route?"

"Not the only one," Soka says, utterly guileless. She blinks at him, bright and innocent. "But I definitely do want to see the future Mand'alor crying because you made it obvious he's family now. It'll be funny."

Ben sighs, very clearly being dramatic about it. "Soka, I'm not going to pick a tattoo based on what you think will be funny."

"Imagine his face, though."

Na-Tsuyon doesn't comment at the expressions Ben makes as he very clearly does exactly that.

"Well, kriff," Ben sighs, and Soka giggles at the swear. "I'll have to get a tattoo for Jango, then."

----

Ben is already nine by the time he comes in with his father to actually get the tattoo for Jango's addition to the family. The choice he makes isn't particularly imaginative, but it'll suit well enough. A mythosaur skull, the symbol of the Haat Mando'ade, in a grey the same shade as beskar.

There actually are traditions to this one, specific adjustments to the framing and stylization meant to indicate how one fits into the faction, but also how one is associated with the Mand'alor. Ben is family, and close family, but not related by blood, nor adopted directly by the Mand'alor, rather a relative through the riduur be alor.

Na-Tsuyon explains each element and adjustment in detail, lets them process and agree, until she's taking a needle to Ben's skin once more.

"Will you be getting one for the coming child as well?" Na-Tsuyon asks while shading in a curve of bone.

"Not yet," Ben tells her, quiet and oddly contemplating. "I need to meet them, first. Figure out who they are."

"Sensible," she agrees. There's the usual oddity in his phrasing, and she ignores it as ever. "Did you tell Fett that you were getting this?"

"No, it's intended as a surprise," Ben says, watching her work.

She can almost feel the coming question.

It does not come from the human she expects.

"Do you know any Mando tattoo artists in Little Keldabe?" the General asks, voice low.

She finishes the line she's on, lifts the needle away from skin, and turns to him. "You're leaving for Coruscant?"

"Not yet," Skywalker says. He meets her eyes evenly. "But... soon. The time's coming. A year, maybe two. The Force will let us know when the time is right."

"Uh-huh," Na-Tsuyon acknowledges this. She does not comment further. The Force is not her wheelhouse. If they think it wants them back on Coruscant, with the Temple, then that's what they believe.

"These are Mando work," Skywalker continues, almost painfully earnest, "and I'd like to ensure whoever maintains them until Ben stops growing knows the right way to handle Mando art."

It's really not that different from a standard tattoo artist, but she's a little charmed anyway. Enchanted, almost. The man really does care.

"I can get you some names and addresses next time you stop by," she promises him. "It's been a few years since I checked in on their work, and I'll need to look them over before I make any recommendations."

He smiles at her, relieved in a manner she finds appallingly open for a Jedi like himself.

Ben mimics his father.

----

She gets to attend the wedding, months later.

The food is very, very good.

(Ben waits until the reception to show off his new tattoo, and the future Mand'alor does, in fact, cry.)

(So does Shmi.)

(So does their eight-week-old daughter, but that's probably unrelated to the tattoo.)

----

"Do you think getting a belly button ring would be good?"

Na-Tsuyon doesn't lift her head from her paperwork when Sokanth poses the question to the piercer. She's in for the horizontal brow bar, this time, and the labret is going to be somewhere a few months down the line.

"That's really up to you," the piercer says. His name is Hujnak, and he's a Devaronian that's been working here since Na-Tsuyon opened up the place. She loves him dearly, but he stole the last piece of cake and for that he will have no help with difficult customers for the next fortnight.

Or until she gets bored.

"I'm leaning towards 'no,' but I'm not sure," Soka muses. "I like the idea of it, but I feel like it might get snagged on things more easily. Plus, it's going to be a point of higher damage and pressure if I get a gut punch. It's one of the parts of my body I'm never really going to armor up, you know?"

They do know. There have been screaming matches about all the Jedi's refusal to wear enough armor on many occasions. The Jedi prioritize their agility to such a degree that armorweave is more reasonable than actual armor, in their opinion. This is an opinion that Fett and Mereel both take issue with.

At great volume.

(Shmi has vambraces, a gorget, and greaves, Na-Tsuyon knows. Some of it was exchanged at the wedding. Shmi doesn't wear much armor, certainly less than even the children. Shmi, crucially, isn't a warrior or otherwise planning to see battle.)

"Then I would say it may be best to hold off."

"Phooey," Soka says, though she doesn't seem particularly upset. "Ben's gonna be cooler than me forever, then."

"You think tattoos are cooler than piercings?" Hujnak challenges. "I'm offended."

"He can just get more," Soka protests. "Without it looking weird or getting dangerous, I mean."

Hujnak hums, noncommittal. "And you're worried about being cooler than the younger brother you have told me is, and I quote, the biggest nerd ever?"

"Well, yeah," Sokanth scoffs. "He's gonna start acting older than me as soon as he thinks he can get away with it. I gotta have something to hold over his head, you know?"

"Seeing as you are the older sibling..."

"Ehhhh..."

Nope.

Not paying attention.

----

"These are House Kryze colors."

Ylliben's breath hitches.

He is ten. He doesn't seem ready to provide answers. She turns to the father instead.

"Will that be a problem?" the general asks, calm and even.

"Yes," she says, and Ben slumps. She continues, because this is her job, and for a reason. "Unless you have a ready justification for when House Kryze asks, yes, it will be a problem. If it were a landscape or an animal, it wouldn't matter, but the pairing of the colors and the peace lily is an explicit statement of loyalty to Adonai and his heir, Satine. Unless you've suddenly decided to adjust your political stance to total pacifism instead of your Jedi approach, or have another reason to take on House Kryze colors, I'd warn against it at all, and would refuse to perform the work myself."

Ylliben's eyes are fixed somewhere behind her, and shining wetly.

"Okay," the general says. "Ben, do you have any other pallettes in mind?

"These were her colors," Ben whispers, and then he swallows thickly. "I just..."

"Simplify," Skywalker suggests. He fiddles with a necklace half-hidden in his Jedi layers; the japor one is visible, but a dull gold glint is all Na-Tsuyon can see of the other before it's tucked away again. "She'd understand, yeah? There's political ramifications. Dangerous ones, especially to you."

Interesting thing to say about a woman who, by Soka's earlier statements, died well before Ben was born.

They could at least try to stop dropping hints about their oddities. She doesn't want to know more.

"Lilac," Ben finally decides. "And... pale silver. With a filigree pattern in the shading?"

"I can do that," Na-Tsuyon promises.

She does not ask further.

----

"We're moving to Coruscant in a month."

Na-Tsuyon's head snaps up, head tails jolting almost painfully with the movement.

Sokanth is getting her labret, finally. She's gossiping as Hujnak prepares the tools, as usual, and Na-Tsuyon tries to ignore it when they Skywalkers do that, she does, but...

"You're leaving," she repeats, feeling oddly blank.

"Um... yeah?" Soka answers. She scratches at one stubby montral. "We've talked about it before. I thought you knew."

"I didn't realize it was so soon," Na-Tsuyon defends. She's more upset than she should be. "I thought you'd be waiting until the little princess was older."

Sokanth blinks at her, slow and... not judging, no. Evaluating, maybe.

"I'm almost thirteen," she says, slow and deliberate and heavy. "And Ben's eleven. There's no hard age limit for becoming a padawan, but I'm getting into the peak years for getting chosen, and I've been living here instead of in the Temple. I haven't had years to impress a potential Master like the others. That might not matter; sometimes a Master sees their future student and just knows, but... I need to have other Jedi to spar with, not just Skyguy and Ben. And Ben's visions are getting stronger, and Dad was never that good with his own in the first place, so he's worried about being able to help at all. We could stay longer, but..."

She trails off, and shrugs, and the weighted air disappears. "It's not the same thing as a verd'goten, at all, but it's about the same age, you know? I should be in the Temple for it."

"What would a verd'goten equivalent be?" Hujnak prompts, when Na-Tsuyon fails to find her words. "Being an adult and equal member and all such things?"

"Knighthood," Soka answers immediately. "Dad got knighted when he was twenty, but that's really young, usually. His master was knighted at twenty-five, which was a bit late, but apparently there was a whole dramatic thing going on there that Dad never got all the details about."

"Becoming a Padawan is a sign that your teachers see you as someone that is ready to take on the responsibilities of a Jedi, yes?" Hujnak asks. "That you may not be ready to go out on your own, but that you're old enough to understand your oaths and choose how to follow them, and to protect others?"

Sokanth considers this, and then nods. "Yeah, I guess it's similar to using the verd'goten to gauge if someone's ready to swear the Resol'nare, that way. Still not moving out, and just about entering an apprenticeship, but enough of an adult to make the choice of how to change the world."

"I think most cultures have something like that around the same age," Hujnak comments. "Some do it a bit later in the teens, but it's usually around your age that most... well, most cultures who age at the 'human standard' rate--"

Na-Tsuyon can't help the reflexive snort of derision. Neither can Soka. Hujnak, the closest to human in the room and yet still very much not, smiles like this is exactly what he intended.

"--most who age at that rate do have it somewhere in that eleven-to-seventeen range, I'd think."

Soka shrugs. "Yeah, well. Still gotta go to the Temple for it, you know?"

"Are you going to take the verd'goten at all?" Na-Tsuyon asks, suddenly a little desperate to keep the Skywalkers here, with Mandalore and all its people, just a fraction of a moment longer.

"I don't think so," Soka muses. "I've been thinking about it, but I should probably talk about it with Jango, yeah?"

"Yeah," Na-Tsuyon says, and feels like she's swallowing down around rocks.

----

As it turns out, the timing is very deliberate. Three weeks later, Jaster transfers the title of Mand'alor to his son.

(Though Na-Tsuyon does not know this, twenty-six is older than Jango was when he lost the title, once upon another life.)

There is a week of festivity. There is food, and drink, and dancing. Some people get married. Some people make announcements of impending births. Some people reveal songs they composed in preparation for this very day.

For a week, Mandalore celebrates a new king.

Then, the Jedi and his children leave.

(Ben gives Na-Tsuyon a hug before he goes.)

(She tries to understand why she feels like she's losing something when he does.)

[kaunis-sielu]

Fire Dogs

The fires had been blazing for weeks now, inching closer and closer to your home and firefighters were pouring in. You’d decided to stay, the fire was mostly moving away from town, thank god. The mayor had said that people who were willing to stay and help care for the hordes of firefighters pouring into town were appreciated. So even though you were a single Omega, you’d signed up. You could take in 2-6 firefighters depending on if they were willing to share a bed with one another and if you needed to sleep on the couch. You’d been assigned 3 men, all from New York City, one a Captain and all of them Alphas.

When you open the door as they walk up your sidewalk the first, a man with light hair and blue eyes, gives you a tight smile.

“Hi, welcome. I have a dog, is that okay?” The three men don’t even have to look at one another before all nodding yes. “Great, come on in.” You move out of the doorway and the three men come into the house.

“Thank you so much for opening your home to us.” The first man says, god he smells good, like sandalwood and lavender.

“It’s the least I could do.” You introduce yourself as your dog comes trotting into the room, Cooper’s tail wagging wildly. “But you can call me Fawn, and this is Cooper.”

“Sorry, I’m Steve Rogers, this is Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson.” The first man says introducing himself and the two men with him.

“It’s a pleasure. I’ll show you guys to your rooms.” You lead them upstairs and show them each to a room. Bucky takes your first spare room, Sam the second and Steve is in the master.

“Buck, you’ve got third shift, Sam you’re on first and I’m on second.”

“Do we start today?” Bucky asks as you make your way downstairs, you were given a small packet for the guys, things you would need to know like allergies, presentation, emergency contacts and dietary restrictions. All three are simple, no dietary issues, no allergies, Alphas, Sam has his wife Carol as his emergency contact but Steve and Bucky, or James as he’s listed, both have Rebecca Barnes, Bucky’s sister.

You get started on dinner and Sam wanders down into the kitchen bringing his

“So, why didn’t you leave town?”

“Nowhere to go. And the fire is heading away from here so hopefully everything will stay away from town.”

“The smoke doesn’t bother you?”

“I mean it’s not great but as long as Coop and I are okay I plan on staying. I’ve got some stuff packed up in my car and ready to go but I just haven’t pulled the trigger yet.”

“That’s fair. We do really appreciate you doing this. Letting us stay here.” He’s got such a soothing presence about him that you forget he’s an Alpha until his scent washes over you.

“It’s the least I can do,” you tell him with a smile, “so what does first shift mean?”

“Oh, it’s the really early shift, like 4am. Steve will be out running a crew since he’s a Captain back home and he’s around 10am then Bucky is 4pm.”

“What will I need for you in the morning? Breakfast? Coffee? Energy bars?”

“Coffee would be great. I usually take it with milk.” You jot down coffee and milk on a sheet of paper.

“How do the other two take their coffee?”

“Barnes likes it black, like a psychopath and Steve likes it with cream and sugar so he can’t taste the coffee.” You laugh and jot down creamer.

“Any chance you know what kind of creamer he likes?”

“Caramel I think.”

“I can always ask him too. I’ll set the coffee to go off at 3:15 for you.”

“Thank you.” Sam says as he sits down at the island. “What are you making for dinner?”

“Spaghetti. I make the sauce from scratch, from the garden.”

“It smells great.”

“Thanks, should be about a half hour. I’ve got meatballs in the oven and will have some garlic bread and green beans from my garden too.”

“You’re going to spoil us huh?” He says with a grin and you laugh, hoping that your suppressants work like they’re supposed to and keep you presenting as a Beta.

“I don’t get to cook for others often so I’m being a little selfish. Let me know if you need anything from town or want me to get anything. I’ll go shopping for the week tomorrow.”

“Are they paying you to host us?”

“No, but I don’t mind getting you guys stuff.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, I wouldn’t offer if it was a problem.” You assure him and after studying you he nods.

“I’ll be sure to let the guys know.” You chat with Sam while you cook. You learn that his wife Carol is an Alpha and a doctor. The Alpha/Alpha pair is uncommon but if it works for them that’s wonderful. You also learn that he, Bucky and Steve served together and that Carol had outranked all three.

It seems that Steve has always been the one to lead their little trio, and when the smell of dinner lures him and Bucky down you include them in the conversation. Bucky, whose scent is oranges and cedar wood, is more chatty and flirty than Steve is but there’s this quiet strength about Steve that’s impossible not to notice.

Sam goes to bed immediately after dinner but Steve and Bucky stay up and watch the news with you. You set the coffee machine for Sam and leave him a note to help himself to anything he wants to eat. Then you bring Cooper outside, he wanders your wildfire lit backyard, the orange glow is spooky and the smell of smoke is thick in the air.

“Come on Coop, it’s bedtime.” You tell him leading him to the living room. Both Steve and Bucky are gone so you change into your pajamas and get ready for bed in the bathroom then head back to the couch where Cooper is laying dead center. “Move it Coop.” He grumbles but gets down, once you’re settled you let him back up on the couch between your feet.

You wake up as Sam closes the fridge.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He says softly. When he turns and sees you sitting up on the couch.

“No it’s okay.” You tell him as Cooper hops off of the couch. You follow him to the back door and let him out.

“Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

“They needed three more beds so I gave them three more beds.”

“We put you out of your room?” He asks with a small frown.

“I sleep more on the couch anyway, I usually fall asleep to one baking show or another.” You tell him with a sleepy smile, you hadn’t meant to tell them they’d taken all your beds but it was too late now.

“This is your home.”

“Seriously Sam don’t worry about it.” You say letting Cooper back into the house. “Be safe.”

“Thanks.” He says and you go back to bed on the couch.

The next time you wake it’s 9:00 and you want to make sure that you’ve got something ready for Bucky and Steve for breakfast so you get up. You feed Cooper then let him out again, if there wasn’t the fire you’d let him stay outside as long as he wanted. You sit down on the couch and pull your tablet into your lap. Cooper joins you on the couch as you start to draw your characters.

“Morning.” Steve’s voice is low and soft when he greets you.

“Good morning. There are pancakes, scrambled eggs, hash browns and bacon in the oven. The pans will be warm.”

“Thanks,” you hear him help himself to food and coffee then he comes out into the living room. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all. Don’t let Coop fool you into any food though.”

“No people food for him?”

“Just some fruit and veggies.” You tell him glancing up at the fire captain. “So Sam said you guys were on a 4-10-4 start time but what time are you all home?”

“We’re doing 12 hour shifts, so Sam and Buck don’t overlap but I will with both.”

“Okay, I’ll have dinner ready when you get back. Is there anything that I don’t have that you need? Sam said you liked a certain flavor of creamer.”

“The French vanilla is fine.”

“He said caramel?” You glance over at him again and he has this little shy smile on his face. “I don’t mind, I need to go get groceries anyway.”

“Caramel is my favorite.” He admits and you nod then get back to your drawing. He finishes his breakfast in silence then puts his dishes into the dishwasher, Steve heads back upstairs and you hear him finish getting ready before he comes back down.

“Be safe.”

“Thanks.” He says before closing the door softly behind him.

Bucky sleeps until almost noon, you’ve taken breakfast out of the oven and put it in the fridge. He somehow looks groggy still and you’re worried he didn’t sleep well.

“Good morning.”

“Morning. How are you?” His voice is low and husky.

“Good. Did you sleep okay?”

“Yea I slept great. I could still be asleep to be honest but I might get called in early.”

“Why?”

“There are less guys at base camp right now. Apparently a group of them had some trouble on the way? I don’t know but Steve called.”

“Breakfast is in the fridge if you wanna heat it otherwise I have lunch meat and stuff for sandwiches.”

“I love breakfast food.” He says making his way to the fridge. He starts a cup of coffee then opens the fridge.

You find out that Bucky is a chatter. Which is fine but you’re glad that you’re illustrating today rather than writing because there’s no way you’d be able to focus on writing. He asks you about living in the small town, how you ended up here, about your job, when he finds out you’re an author and illustrator of children’s books he promises to buy his niece a couple books. You tell him to leave his address and you’ll send him a signed copy of the one you’re working on, he excitedly does.

When he leaves at 3:30, not being called in early, you take a break and start on dinner. You want to make sure you’ve got food ready for Sam when he gets back.

Sam comes in at 4:45, Cooper barks excitedly and Sam sinks to the ground and Cooper immediately calms allowing Sam to wrap his arms around him. You don’t say anything, just continue to cook while Sam hugs Cooper to him. You hear him talking softly but you ignore him, whatever he’s saying to Coop is none of your business.

“I’m gonna go take a shower before I eat.” Sam says at full volume, the side of his face still pressed to Cooper’s side.

“That’s fine,” you assure him, “I’ve got about twenty minutes before the rice is done.”

“Okay.” He disappears then Cooper comes wandering into the kitchen. You give him a couple of treats and tell him what a good boy he is.

Sam eats in silence then goes up to his room, you’re pretty sure he goes to bed by 7 but after the day he’s had you can’t blame him.

At 10 you start reheating food for when Steve comes in. Sure enough, 10:30 rolls in and so does Steve. Cooper greets Steve with a wagging tail, Steve gives him a little pat and heads upstairs. You hear the shower turn on and after around 10 minutes Steve is back dropping down on the couch as Cooper puts a head in his lap. Steve absently pets Cooper and you place a plate of food in front of him.

“Thank you.” His tired eyes meet yours and he gives you a little half smile.

“It’s the least I can do.” You tell him sincerely. Cooper stays with his head in Steve’s lap until Steve goes upstairs to bed. You set up your bed on the couch and set your alarm for 3:30 in the morning so you can get food heated for Bucky and coffee and food started for Sam.

You fall asleep still smelling Steve on your couch.

Tag list:

@memyselfandmaddox @thefanficfaerie @patzammit @dsakita @dramadreamer14 @killcomet @thesassmisstress @andahugaroundtheneck @loving-life-my-way @thefridgeismybestie @dumblani @im-just-another-monster @mywinterwolf @giggleberts @biskwitmamaw @geeksareunique @paintballkid711 @lumar014 @also-fangirlinsweden @connie326 @inkedaztec @eralen @valsworldofcreativity @strangersstranger

[redhairedfeistynerd]

Mask and You Shall Receive

This is for @jtargaryen18 Friday the 13th Flash Fiction Challenge. I chose the quote “She can’t hide; no place to hide” and there will be a hockey mask.

Words: 1400+

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: 18 +

SMUT, rough sex, sexual fantasies, and I’m going to warn dub con/non con because of what did/did not transpire

Please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works. I appreciate likes, comments, and reblogs! Thanks for reading!

Summary: A lover of horror films, you reveal one of your fantasies to your darling husband.

It was only the nights that Steve worked late, that you kept the ensuite light on. A childhood routine that stuck with you on the nights your mom was out, or perhaps on the evenings, after watching a scary film with your babysitter; despite the warnings from both of your parents that the nightmares would come. It’s the darkness at this very moment that has surprised you.

But it isn’t the pitch black that has pulled you from your sleep, it was the movement, the hand that had shifted across your stomach and pulled your t-shirt up passed your breasts, sleep shorts long abandoned during this summer’s heat wave. His breath, warm against the back of your neck comes in quick bursts. A leg had been pushed between both of yours, the top angled slightly back as he had needed the space to enter you. You were usually such a light sleeper, and you were surprised that you had missed the push it took for him to insert his large cock deep within you.

The thrusts came in quick, rough bursts, not the usual pace Steve Rogers took.  His hands are greedy, running over your breasts, left to right, left to right before pinching one of your nipples with such force, that a scream escaped from the corner of your mouth that wasn’t pressed into your king size pillow. The sheets under you burn fire into your skin and he forcefully keeps pushing in and out.

“Steve. Steeeve,” you panted out. “What… oh fuck, right there, that’s it baby,” you spit into your pillow, the saliva smearing across your cheek and leaving the space under your face damp.

He’s handsy with you tonight, his grip on you fierce. There’s no kissing, no passionate words escaping his mouth. It’s different, not feeling his lips all over you, how he’d lick the back of your neck and nip at it, tonight he’s all hands, molding your breasts into a masterpiece. Squeezing as hard as he can and pulling the flesh away from your chest.

The grunts get louder, the quick in out of his cock intensifies. His sweaty chest presses and slides up your back. You can’t remember it ever being this wet before, your back, between your legs, the back of your neck where his breath repeatedly hits. The sounds coming from your cunt are loud, you can feel your fluids dripping and coating the inside of your thighs as he moves with fervor in and out of you. You push into him more, clenching around him and shoving your ass into him with force.  It spurs him on, his movements rough, not the warm, sweet love-making that Steve Rogers usually bestowed upon you.

There’s a neediness within you; one where you need his mouth on you, those plump lips roaming across your skin, the taste of his saliva mixing with yours. You shove back against him, and raise your head from your pillow; you’re able to turn your head and reach your hand around to grab Steve’s head for the kiss you’re craving. But as your hand tries to pull his hair and pull him closer to you, your fingers run across…material at the back of his head? He’s resistant to your motions, and as you pull his head closer, cold, hard plastic hits your head. It’s not your husbands face that you make out in the darkness, it’s the popular horror movie character that you had mentioned that night, many months before. You’re intrigued that he’s chosen this night, Friday the 13th, to play out this sexual fantasy with you.

“I’m not going to call you Steve anymore,” you pant into the darkness, “It’s Jason fucking me now. Aren’t you, Jason? Ramming that huge, murderous cock into me, those deep wet breaths and moans into my ears.”

No words escape his mouth, but a guttural moan fills your room, and you can’t help but smile as you grind into him harder.

“Oh Jason!”

The mask digs into the back of head as he picks up the pace. It’s relentless, its almost painful, and everything that you had fantasized about.

Boosting your upper body, you adjust your arm into the meatiness of your mattress, pushing back with all your weight, using Steve’s cock with more force as your orgasm crawled up and over your skin. Gripping the sheets, your scream out his name, dousing both of you with your juices. He isn’t far behind, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling your head back, each hard thrust coinciding with a deep moan as he comes inside you.

His fist loosens in your hair after he finishes, his chest, still pressed against your back is hot and sweaty.

You’re finding it hard to keep your eyes open after this unexpected adventure and fall asleep to the movement of your husbands’ breaths.

The bed is empty when you wake, hours later than usual, your head throbbing. Strange. I only had that one glass of wine with dinner. The other half of the bed is cold, the sheets tucked in as if Steve had never slept beside you during the night. But he was here. That ridiculous mask on, the one you had joked about him wearing when you two drank too much one night while watching Friday the 13th.

“Shh, quiet, I love this part” as you cover Steve’s mouth to hear, “She can’t hide; no place to hide.”

You were discussing the strangest fantasies you thought about and revealed to your somewhat vanilla husband, that something about Jason Voorhees turned your crank. The mask did something to you, caused a wetness between your legs. As embarrassed as you were exposing your deep, dark fantasies to Steve, you saw a glimmer in his eyes at the thought of entertaining you in this manner. And the sex that night, rougher than usual, sweaty, Steve’s vanilla tendencies dissipating as he burst, thrusting so, so deep inside you.

You find your husband in the kitchen, spatula in hand as he cooked breakfast on the stove.

“Well, look at you. First you rock my world last night and now you make me breakfast? Keep this up and I might stay awhile,” you say smiling and give him a quick hug from behind.

“What are you talking about? I stayed late working on a plan with Tony for the new recruits,” he said, giving you a look of confusion. “You got some boyfriend I don’t know about, sweetheart?”

 The name makes you blush, even though its nothing new. “Oh, stop it. Last night was incredibly memorable.”

Steve gave you a look of confusion and before you can say anything, the doorbell rings. You look to him, wondering if maybe one of the guys are stopping by but he shrugs and places your breakfast down in front of you.

 “I’ll get it babe! Start without me, OK?” A quick jog to the front door, unlocking and opening it, reveals a package leaning against the side of the house. As you step out, feet bare on the already warm brick path, you lean over to pick up the bagged package, and a light shape catches your eye, laying on the grass. You take a few steps further to see the item clearly.

 It’s the mask from last night and it lays glossy plastic shining in the warm sun, on the front lawn, owner long gone. You feel the blood draining from your face, anxiety creeping up slowly and fear slowly closing in, your legs beginning to shake when you hear Steve call your name.

 “Y/N?”

 You turn to see Steve watching you from the front door. Swallowing down the lump in your throat, trying to hold back your tears and keep yourself from appearing frightened. Moving away from the sight of the mask, you shift your body and try to remain calm as you walk by your husband, giving him a smile before you make your way up the stairs and into the shower to cry and release the horror you feel within. What exactly happened last night?

 Steve waits until he hears your bedroom door close and makes his way out to the front lawn. Picking up the mask, he tosses it into the air, catching it, a smirk and chuckle escaping his face before he heads back into the house, closing the front door behind him. He listens, making sure he can hear the shower running in your room before he opens the hallway closet, reaching up to hide the mask under a pile of junk that belongs to him that you’ll never sift through.

“Next year baby, next year we’ll play again.”

[glowingbadger]

Hi it’s me, crawling through the window. Would it be possible to get a crumb of arranged marriage w/ Hubert? His line w/ Dorothea about being willing to get married for politics sake has fueled my brain rot for him.

Good God I need to secure my windows-

I mean HELLO FRIEND ANON YES IT WOULD BE MY PLEASURE

Lol actually though, I have been thinking about this for Hubie since we all started chatting about that arranged marriage stuff! I think it's a perfect concept for him~

This like... got weird while I was writing it though?? Idk man hahaha it ended up on the less-spicy side of what I usually write, and with some very weird dialogue in places... Idk, I hope y'all like it. Maybe if there's interest, I'll follow this up eventually with a more smut-focused piece?

I've been traveling and working so much lately that I just don't even know what writing is anymore or how it works hahaha

TW: A brief mention of non-con

Hubert (FE3H) x Reader ("wife," neutral pronouns)

Arranged Marriage - semi spicy i guess?

"Frankly, he's a pain," Linhardt must be able to see your surprise and confusion written across your face. He goes on, "He's reliable and capable, of course, but also the most persistent nag you'll ever meet. Actually, no-" he glances upward as though to cross reference his own thoughts, "No, her Majesty is worse. But Hubert is a close second to be sure. Always on and on about sleep schedules and proper nutrition and etiquette..." He sighs and closes the massive tome on his lap, as though to close the conversation with it, "frankly, he's an insufferable mother hen. Does that help?"

"Well, it's... Not what I expected," you admit with a shrug, "but thank you all the same."

~

It's been several weeks since the papers binding you in marriage to Hubert Von Vestra had been signed- and this alone had sufficed. No ceremony, no grand ball, just paperwork and a handshake with your father. A handshake that ensured that, even under the Empire's unification, he would maintain nominal control over his considerable portion of land, and in return, would swear absolute loyalty to her Majesty. It was a beneficial arrangement for all parties, and you were not ignorant to the part you played. You were hardly even a bargaining chip- moreso, a hostage.

Your new husband had made no secret of what manner of harm may befall you if your family were to renege on their deal. Fortunately, you know your father to be a reliable coward, so you have no reason to believe he would be bold enough to step out of line.

Hubert Von Vestra is a terrifying man. A zealously loyal man of storied cruelty and a frigid disposition. His frame looms over you whenever he's near, and though he's hardly placed a finger on you since you'd been given over to him, his mere presence is... arresting. There's a sort of charisma to him that's equal parts frightening and fascinating. Perhaps it's madness brought on by your circumstances, but you can't help wanting to glimpse just the slightest bit into that brilliant, ever churning mind.

Unsurprisingly, he has been resistant to your attempts to understand him. He hardly indulges you in small talk, and if you were the paranoid sort, you'd think he intentionally makes himself busy when you're around. Eventually, perhaps out of sheer stubbornness, you'd settled on a routine of bringing coffee to his study adjoined to your bedroom in the evenings. He'd been visibly surprised the first time. It wasn't until the fourth night that he'd given a curt "thank you." About two weeks in, he'd actually sat back in his chair and laid down his quill pen to receive the cup from your hands. After a month, he'd leveled his narrow gaze at you and said,

"I cannot begin to fathom what satisfaction you glean from playing 'maid' to me."

"Well, I, uhm," you hadn't expected him to address you so directly, but you managed to say, "You... work so hard, I wanted to do something for you, I suppose."

His expression is inscrutable as he replies,

"You are aware that my work was much the same before you arrived."

"I am," you say softly, "But- all the same..." you trail off, and Hubert seems content to let the matter rest. And so you leave him be amidst his reports and correspondence, coffee at his side on the desk. Yet for as unproductive as your exchange might have seemed, it does leave you with an idea. The thought to learn about the man from those who knew him long before your arrival at the capitol.

~

Your investigation into the true character of your husband does not stop with Linhardt. In fact, his testimony only leaves you with further questions. But perhaps the others would say otherwise; perhaps the United Empire's most up and coming crest scholar simply inspires maternal behavior. This has to be the case- you simply can't imagine that the notoriously ruthless heir of the even more notorious Vestra lineage would be so... Doting.

And yet the more you learn of him, the more contradictory he seems.

Caspar's take is much like Linhardt's- a picture of a man far closer to a school marm than any assassin or master of torture. Ferdinand seems both smitten and incensed by him, oscillating wildly between the two. Then eventually, to your shock, Bernadetta takes the initiative to speak to you about Hubert of her own accord.

"I'm, uh, really so-sorry to bother you!" she approaches with arms drawn close to her chest and eyes resolutely avoiding yours, "I- I just heard that you were... asking about Hubert, so, I, uh..."

It takes some time to prompt her further. You assure her again and again- no, this isn't intrusive at all- yes, you'd very much like to hear her perspective- no, you're not mad at her. In truth, you're endlessly intrigued about what a gentle soul like Bernadetta would have to say about a man feared across the continent. Finally, she manages,

"He's... actually really kind!" she blurts out, as though the words would abandon her if she gave them the window of opportunity. Your eyebrows raise slightly.

"You think so..?"

"Yes, completely-!" she stammers, "I know he's super, super scary, and powerful and spooky and cold and, uh, all of that. But still," her voice falters as she continues, "He only scolds people when they do something dangerous. And he only hurts people to protect others. I... I know he's done some te-terrible things. But... he's always been nice to Bernie," finally, she meets your eyes with an imploring look in hers, "So, uh, I'm really grateful to him. And I think it would be really nice for someone to reach out to him. If... if that's not too weird or anything. For you."

You smile warmly and nod,

"Thank you, Bernadetta. I know it can't be easy for you to come to me with all of this, but... I'd like to try, if I can."

The opportunity doesn't come in the way you expect.

At first, it seems the night will proceed like many others before. You bring a cup of coffee to your husband's desk, setting it down quietly so as to not disturb him. He's silent, but this is common enough, so you head back to the bedroom to undress for the evening. All nights prior, he would lay beside you long after you'd settled in, then rise to resume work in the morning before you woke up- all the while never allowing your bodies to interact in any way.

Tonight, just as you're about to close the door to Hubert's study behind you, long fingers catch around your wrist, visibly startling you.

It's the most physical contact you've had to-date, but he only says,

"One moment."

You whip around to face him, a touch of anxiety evident in your eyes. It's clear in his own that he notices, but if anything, he only seems amused. He steps forward, his taller frame menacing you as he speaks,

"I understand that you have been busying yourself with some manner of investigation as of late."

It takes a moment for his meaning to reach you. When it does, your face burns and you can't bring yourself to meet his scrutinizing gaze,

"Oh, uhm..."

"I assure you, my dearest wife," he says with barely concealed venom, "anything that I do not wish for you to know will be kept from you. Aside from which, your efforts thus far have proven amateurish at best."

Something seems off about his tone. You could understand if he felt uncomfortable or hesitant about your efforts to learn about him, but this seems far more grave, more... business-like. He steps towards you once more, and you step back in turn. Yet before long, you feel your legs bump the edge of the bed. A gloved hand trails a fingertip down your jawline to your chin, then urges you to look up at him.

"Whatever you are planning, my dear, I promise it will be fruitless. You had best rethink how you spend your days before your actions bring you to harm."

"No, I-" your brow creases deeply, your face burns, your body burns hotter and you don't want to consider why, "I've just been trying to learn about you as a person, nothing else. We're- we're married, after all, so..."

He gives an abrupt, dry laugh.

"Ah, so I am to believe that you've been interrogating my allies out of some misguided affection, is that it?"

"Hubert, just listen to me!" for a moment, you feel bolstered, defiant, and you straighten your posture, "You won't tell me the first thing about you- the only way to learn so much as your favorite color is to ask someone who's known you for a decade!"

Briefly, he does seem to consider your words. But his eventual reply is as aloof as any prior,

"If you're no spy or politician, then you're worse- a fool." he says, and before you can respond, he's seized both of your wrists and pushed you back onto the bed. For a moment, the room spins and your voice leaves you. A shrewd eye watches you with cruel condescension as he pins you against the sheets.

"I should think that you'd be well aware what I'm capable of," he nearly whispers, "I personally ensured that the rumors spread through your father's territory and further still. Do you think that anyone would even dare lift a finger to help you if I chose to seek retribution for this recent behavior?" He draws nearer, his grip tighter at your wrists, "Perhaps as punishment, I'll simply take my pleasure from you by force."

Your lips tighten, you take a breath. Then, meeting his gaze directly, you reply,

"You won't."

His visible eye narrows.

"And what evidence do you have to prompt such unfounded confidence? Perhaps you have crafted a flattering falsehood of me in your mind," a mocking smirk curls his lips, "Am I a misunderstood sentimental sort to you, then? A sad, lonely man for you to save?"

You scowl, though you suspect it looks more like a pout to him.

"I don't know what I think of you yet- not completely. But I don't pity you like that, and I don't think you're sad or lonely. I know you're not."

For the first time, it seems that you've caught him off guard. That frigid mask falters for just a moment, and you go on before he can replace it,

"You're surrounded by people who care about you. I've seen it for myself. Whatever you've had to do in the service of your ideals- it hasn't kept the people around you from wanting to know and understand you, even if it's despite you."

Hubert is silent for a moment. His gaze bores into you like he thinks he'll discover some hidden layer if he can just keep digging. Then, he sighs,

"How did I ever become bound to such a troublesome spouse..."

When you wrest your arms from his grasp, his hands fall away with little resistance, and you think that perhaps he had never truly intended to keep you in place by force to begin with. He moves to leave the bed, but your fists find the front of his clothing and tug him back down to you.

You press your lips to his without hesitation, and you can feel him inhale sharply, his entire body rigid above you. His lips are surprisingly soft, his scent like coffee and old parchment, and though your heart threatens to burst from your chest, you hold firmly to him by his clothes. Near imperceptibly, he leans down against you, and your fear, along with any remaining doubts, begin to dissolve. Knowing he won't pull away, you let your hands relax against him, running up his chest where you can feel his own pulse pounding. It's so human, so entirely reasonable and normal. Now, at last, Hubert Von Vestra is merely a man of flesh and bone.

Your tongue meets his naturally, your lips parting in time with his as your kiss deepens to a fevered pace. One hand reaches that sharp, handsome jawline, reveling in the erotic sensation of his mouth moving against yours. And yet, all the while, his hands remain staunchly on the bed beside you. He doesn't touch you- doesn't even let his body meet yours.

It's impossible to tell whether passion or madness drives you to bring your teeth to his lower lip, a single insistent bite communicating desire mounting faster than you can contain. And for a moment, you sense something new; a sound catches in Hubert's throat, a reaction he fights to stifle. Then, he pulls away. His pale skin is tinted a rare shade of pink, and his hair is ruffled out of place enough to reveal both narrowed eyes. His cloak has spilled around his frame to surround you both, and somewhere in your frazzled mind, you imagine that you're caught in some beautiful, velvet-lined trap.

"I- must... return to my work." Hubert says stiffly. He pushes up from you and turns away, leaving you still flustered on the bed behind him. You sit upright, holding your arms tight around your body as you watch him straighten his hair and clothes.

"You, uhm..." your face reddens still as you search for the right words, "you could... join me in bed, if you liked."

Hubert turns to the door of his study, speaking without daring to even glance your way,

"Anything that you offer to me now will be born from the impulse to survive. I have been bargained with before." His shoulders slack just slightly, his voice low and sober, "The proudest nobleman will even sell off his own child to a monster if he feels it will spare him its teeth."

You open your mouth to protest, then shut it without a word. You feel that you know your mind and heart, even in this moment, but you lack the words to convince a man like this. In a feeble attempt, you murmur,

"You don't frighten me, Hubert. Not anymore."

He half turns toward you, though his hand remains on the handle of his study door.

"You yourself said that you do not know what you think of me," he says, "As such, I will not lay a hand on you until the day that you do."

You stare down at your hands in your lap, barely registering the sound of the door clicking shut as he leaves you in the bedroom. No matter how you try to sort out your tangled thoughts, the memory of his lips on yours won't leave them. If anything, it eclipses any sense of reason, standing resolutely in the way of your path to clarity. Letting out a groaning sigh, you fall onto your back on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as if it could offer you any advice.

What do I think about my own husband? You wonder, the thought nearly enough to make you laugh. Well for one, he's a pain.

[foli-vora]

more than words - pt.1

A/N: I’ve had this in my head for forever and a half so it feels good to finally sort my thoughts and random notes out. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The one person who you thought would be happy for you finally getting with someone decent was your best friend. After all, he had set you both up. Who would’ve thought he’d be the reason it all falls apart?

Pairing: best friend!Benny Miller/f!reader, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual acts/sexual refences (no smut yet but it’s coming so this is strictly 18+)

pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

+++

Wednesday nights were pizza nights. A rule established in the early stages of your friendship with Benjamin Miller – a loud mouth, golden hearted ex-spec ops mess of a human being. A chance meeting one stormy day on the freeway, led to something you weren’t expecting – a friendship, and a solid one at that.

“– she damn near tried to suck the life out of me!”

“Jesus Ben, there are kids a table over.”

“So? They shouldn’t be eavesdroppin’ on conversations that don’t concern them.” He grins lopsidedly at your scowl of disapproval, ripping off a mouthful of pizza and humming as he chews it, head swaying to the faint music playing behind the bar. “You’re payin’, by the way.”

You snort quietly, “Don’t I always?”

He recoils, blinking in playful surprise. “Excuse you? I paid last…” he trails off, eyes rolling to the wall as he thinks but a frown soon pinches his brows. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love you and I appreciate you.”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head as you signal for another round. “Anyways, reverting to our previous topic before you got carried away with your blowjob story.”

He makes a noise, snapping his fingers as he tries to rush chewing and swallowing his mouthful. “So,” he starts, “I’ve got a friend…”

You groan immediately, letting your head lull back. “Ben –”

This wasn’t anything new. Benny took it as his own personal mission to fix you up with anyone he thought could give you a good time and treat you well. Friends, colleagues, Hell – even his brother at one point. Will was lovely, by all means, but not your type. Both you and Will had agreed you were not a match in the slightest early in the evening, enjoyed a night of beer and pool, and then went your separate ways.

Although, now that you thought about it, Ben hadn’t mentioned setting you up with anyone for a long while. Not since before his mysterious trip.

You still didn’t know anything about it, other than he and some old work friends went on an apparent ‘vacation’. It was more than that – you knew it, and he knew you knew it, but you didn’t push the topic. Instead of interrogating him, forcing question after question on him, you let it go, sensing it was something he really didn’t want to talk about.

He had returned from that trip a few months ago, heavy with exhaustion and usually bright eyes dull and weary. You tucked him into your bed, and left him. He slept for hours. It wasn’t until much later that evening that you crept in to see how he was doing, and found him thrashing silently in the sheets, sweaty and incoherently mumbling, face pinched and puckered in pain. You didn’t wake him. Instead, you knelt beside the bed, softly stroking along his forehead until his erratic movements and breathing calmed. You didn’t bring it up.

“I know, I know,” he threw his hands up in defence with a small grin, “but I think you’ll like this one.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“No, I mean it this time. He’s a real good guy – one of my closest. I think you guys would really hit it off. I haven’t tried to set you up before because he was with the chick but she upped and left him alone with the baby and –”

“Sorry, what?”

“What?”

“He has a baby? Like a… like a child?”

Benny frowns defensively, “You’ve always said you want kids!”

“It’s still a huge commitment, Ben.”

“Jesus, I’m not walking you down the aisle! Just meet him and see where it goes. If it ends in some good sex, you say ‘thank you Ben’ and we move on. And if it ends in something more, you guys take it slow and buy me wings as a thank you.” He shrugs, looking thoroughly impressed with himself, and reaches for his beer, polishing it off in one swig.

“And what if it ends in bad sex?” You challenge, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward to eye him critically.

He scoffs, “Woman please. I know my brothers. You’ll be in good hands.”

You take a moment to thank the waitress as she stops at your table with your beers. She lingers just a little on passing Ben his, an act he didn’t miss as he shoots her a wink and a honeyed, thanks sugar. She smiles, cheeks flooding with colour before she turns and waltzes off towards other customers, swinging her hips as she goes.

You’re expressionless when he finally turns back to you, “Sugar?”

“Shut your mouth.”

Façade cracking, a snicker falls past your lip and you chuckle. “Alright,” you concede, “you’ve got my interest. What’s his name?”

“Fish.”

… what?

“Come again?”

“Francisco – we call him Fish. Catfish, actually.”

“Your age?”

“Bit older.”

You sigh deeply, rolling your head on your shoulders in thought. You were curious, no doubt about it. Despite never being able to make anything last long-term out of the list of men Benny had set you up with, none of them were bad guys. They were all kind, funny and incredibly respectful. One great thing about Benjamin Miller was that he had an impeccable taste in character.

“I don’t know, Ben –”

He slips his phone from his pocket and swipes away at his screen before wordlessly handing you the device. It was a photo, taken from one of Benny’s many weekend trips into the wilderness. Your eyes are dragged from the incredible background of snow peaked mountains and lush green forests to the man standing beside Benny, tucked under his arm. Average build and height, a well-loved trucker cap hiding dark hair. Warm brown eyes, crinkled from a large dimpled grin between dark patched facial hair.

Benny, seeing the sudden spark of interest, grins around his beer bottle. “So, I’ll slip him your number?”

You tighten your jaw and hand his phone back, sniffing impassively as you reach for your beer. “If it means you’ll leave me alone, then fine.” You mutter coolly, ignoring his quiet chuckle.

+

“Wait, wait – you have a best friend and it’s not one of us? I’m cut, Benny. Cut real deep.” Santiago Garcia was curious, to say the least. For years, he had known the youngest Miller and he had never mentioned anyone beyond their little circle or their families. “She cute?”

Benny huffs a chuckle, leaning across the pool table and lining up the final ball. “Hell yeah, she’s cute.”

“Where you been hiding her?”

“She moved away – only came back late last year.”

Santi hums, “Ironhead – she cute?”

Will half smiles, dragging his attention away from the pool table to shrug. “She’s alright.”

His bait works. Benny snaps it up – hook, line and sinker. He stands abruptly from his shot, cue just skimming the white ball, and points an angry finger in his brother’s direction, “I won’t take that shit. She’s a damn angel and you know it.”

Will chuckles to himself before returning his attention to Santi. “Yeah, she’s cute. Show ‘em.”

Benny briefly steps away from the pool table, opens his phone and brings up your Instagram profile, throwing it to Pope and letting him scroll through your feed.

“How come you’ve met her and we haven’t?” Pope aims his question at the older Miller brother, currently bent over the table and pocketing the black ball.

He half shrugs, straightening. “He set us up. It didn’t work out.”

Santi’s face puckers into a teasing glower, and he pouts at the younger Miller. “So, what? You set everyone else up and just leave me to die alone? What’s that about, Benjamin?”

Benny holds his arms out in obvious exaggeration, gesturing deliberately to himself. “You’ve got me.”

Frankie quietly sips his beer and watches in fond amusement, content to stay in the background and away from the bickering. Like Santi, his interest had been piqued but he was somewhat nervous about the situation. He already had feelings of apprehension returning to the dating scene after the shit show of a year he’d had, and those feelings tripled when it came to potentially dating someone close to one of his longest friends. He hadn’t dated in years. He was rusty. What if he disappointed you and Benny ended up kicking his ass? It could get messy real quick.

“I don’t know, man.” He finally pipes up, crossing his arms comfortably across his torso and reclining in the bar stool after peaking over Santi’s shoulder and at the screen he was lazily scrolling through. Ha. Way out of his league. “This kinda shit never works.”

“You sayin’ she’s not good enough for you?”

Frankie shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “You know I’m not.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“Quite the opposite.”

“I’ll take his spot. Give me her number.” Santi holds a hold out, clicking his fingers impatiently when Benny merely rolls his eyes. Pope grins, settling back into his seat and elbowing Frankie softly. “I think you should go for it, man. She seems great, and you need to get back out there.”

“I can’t, I’ve got Mena –”

“And Mena’s got her tío. Go for it. You’re just looking for excuses – no seas cobarde.”

Frankie chews on his lip as he gives it a bit of thought, wondering what’s the worst possible case scenario that could come from it. A busted lip? His self-image in ruins? Scared off from dating for the rest of his life? All things he could live with.

“… alright.”

Immediately, Benny perks up from setting the pool table with a large grin. “Yeah?”

Fish sighs, long and drawn out as Pope playfully pokes his side. “Yeah. Give me her number, I’ll message her now.” Before he freaks and changes his mind.

Maybe he was just thinking too much. What’s the worst that could happen?

+

Tags: @anu-simps​

[pies-writes-and-more]

Hey I have a request!! Can you write a scenario with Bokuto, Tsukishima, and Sugawara where reader has a LOT of moles/beauty marks? I have 5 on my face alone, 3 in a line on my neck and more. It makes me insecure because it looks weird. Anyways, thank you sooo much! I absolutely love your writing!!!

Warnings: potential swearing as usual, insecurities about beauty marks/moles

Characters: Bokuto Kōtarō, Sugawara Kōshi, Tsukishima Kei, all with a Gender Neutral Reader (let me know if you find something gendered so I can fix it!)

A/N: thank you for the request darling! Sorry for the long wait!! Hope this is what you had in mind :) Also, all of them are right: you are beautiful!

Haikyū Masterlist

You didn’t understand why Bokuto seemed to only ever kiss your face exactly where you didn’t want him to.

You could stand in the mirror and point out things you didn’t like about yourself but your beauty marks were something you were self conscious about. You used to cover them up with light makeup every now and then but lately you hadn’t had the time or patience for it, so you just avoided looking at them.

But Bokuto, even after months of being together, seemed to somehow feel the opposite. He would press a kiss exactly on the moles on your face and when you were in private, he’d kiss the ones falling down your neck. He seemed so infatuated with them and you could never understand why.

One day he caught you trying to apply makeup again, finally sitting down and trying this new method that could cover up anything according to a makeup artist you’d seen on social media. His eyes wide and you could’ve sworn his hair drooped, “What’re you doing???” He screeched, immediately snatching your makeup from you.

“Bokuto!” You whined, huffing as you paused the YouTube video playing in front of you to pout up at him, “Give it back!”

He shook his head like a four year old, stomping his feet slightly, “Why’re you covering them?” He asked you, hands on his hips now.

There was no point avoiding the topic now. You sighed and glanced at yourself in the mirror, half of them covered and the other half just staring you in the face. “They’re ugly,” you whispered quietly, avoiding his eyes.

“Ugly?” Bokuto scoffed and sat down next to you, hugging his knees to his chest and setting your makeup down. “How could they be ugly?”

You had heard this before. All of your friends and family always went, “No Y/N, you’re perfect!” But it was always so fake. You knew they were just saying it to be nice.

But Bokuto just paused, watching you for a moment and handing you back your makeup. You blinked up at him in surprise, noting his small smile. “If it makes you feel better, go ahead. I want my love to always feel their best. But...” he let out a nervous sort of chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “I really like them,” he admitted sheepishly.

You knew he was being honest just because of the rosiness that was touching his cheeks. He squirmed in his spot, now avoiding your gaze. “Why?” You asked after a moment.

Bokuto straightened his posture for a moment before carefully choosing his words, “Someone once told me they were places your partner kissed you the most in your past lives. And...” he hesitated, cheeks glowing red now. “And I’d like to think I was with you in every one of our past lives so I want to keep kissing you there so you’ll love me in our next life too!” He blurted out quickly, rocking a little in his seated position.

You just stared at him. Sure you had heard of that little theory too, but you hadn’t ever had someone seriously retell it to you. But hearing it from him... you looked at yourself in your mirror again. It didn’t change how you felt about them. You still weren’t a huge fan. But hearing Bokuto genuinely love them... at least it lessened your insecurity about him hating them.

“I think you’re beautiful, Y/N,” Bokuto continued after a second, smiling at you and scooting closer to you. “If you need this makeup to help you see how beautiful you are, then go ahead! But I think you’re the most perfect human being out there!”

Your eyes teared up slightly, just hearing how sure he was. He smiled at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek before immediately looking through your makeup bag, “Can I try?” He asked excitedly, holding up a mascara tube and lipstick.

“You want to try wearing it or putting it on me?” You laughed, your face no longer feeling hot with embarrassment and shame.

“Both!” Bokuto grinned, begging you to teach him what each product was. He always knew just how to cheer you up, no matter what.

He knew you still disliked your marks, but Bokuto would continue to kiss them every chance he got unless you ever asked him to stop. He still wanted to recognize you in his next life, so even if those weren’t the marks you’d have, maybe he could give you some others you’d like more.

Sugawara’s fingers always traced over the beauty marks on your face, beaming when he pointed out that you two were twins for having moles together. He always had a smile on when he talked about it, always spoke about it so proudly like it was a mark of status or beauty.

But unlike Sugawara, you weren’t all that proud of it and you didn’t just have one. You often just gave him a smile and switched the topic, and though you always loved the feeling of his fingers dancing along your skin, sometimes you’d pull away to do something or distract him with something else if you felt like he was touching your marks too much.

He hadn’t realized it before, but came to the realization that maybe you didn’t like your marks when he caught you editing a picture of the two of you, your fingers magically causing those little spots to just disappear.

“What’re you doing?” Sugawara frowned, hugging you from behind and peering from over your shoulder.

“Just editing that pic of us before I post it!” You told him happily - it was such a nice photo and with a few simple touches, it would be perfect.

Sugawara watched you for a little longer, confirming his suspicions before knocking you on the head with the side of his hand.

“Hey! Suga, what the hell?” You groaned, rubbing the top of your head slightly. “What was that for?”

“Stop erasing my baby!” He shouted at you loudly, making you laugh nervously at just how loud he was being.

“I’m not erasing your baby!” You insisted, shaking your hands in front of you. “Just... my marks.”

Sugawara’s frowned stayed on his face as firm as ever, “They’re a part of you. And I love all of you. I love every single inch of your skin, whether you have a mark or not. I love you because you’re not like a cookie cutter version of a person, you stand out in the most beautiful of ways. I want you to be different, I want you to draw all the attention so I can say that one is mine.”

You smiled a little at his words, hearing the conviction in his voice. But your eyes glanced sadly at the photo, just wishing you didn’t have them.

“Hey,” he spoke softer this time, touching your chin up to look at him, “If you really don’t like them, fine. We all have our insecurities after all. But please don’t tell yourself you’re less beautiful because of them.” His hand slipped your phone from your own, peering at your editing work. “You looked like a completely different person,” he admitted with a sort of sad smile. “Still beautiful. But different. I like the version I have here with me.”

Sugawara’s arms were suddenly wrapped around you in a rib-crushing hug, his voice telling you firmly all the things he loved about you and how much he wanted to scream to the world every single thing that made him crazy about you. Eventually you were practically unable to breathe in his arms as they just got tighter and tighter and the two of you fell on the floor laughing after wrestling for a bit.

The photo is eventually posted unedited like he wanted, and now when you look at it, you feel just a little bit more loved, regardless of your marks.

Tsukishima knew even before you two were going out that you were self conscious of your marks. He didn’t think there was anything wrong with them, to be honest, they made your face that much more attractive, but you hated them so he always pretended like they weren’t there for your sake.

But he had caught you picking at one of them, as if absentmindedly thinking you could tear it off and everything would be okay.

His eyes narrowed as he realized what you were doing, reaching over to swat at your hands, and glaring at you from across the library table where two of you were supposed to be studying.

“If you start bleeding, I’m not taking care of you,” he scolded you, though you knew for a fact that he had started keeping bandaids in his bags for you cause sometimes you were that clumsy.

“Sorry,” you responded sheepishly, folding your hands in front of you in an attempt to stop picking at them. Your eyes focused on the sheet of paper in front of you, but you weren’t able to actually pay attention to anything on it. It was like an itch you couldn’t get rid of, an obnoxious little bump in your otherwise relatively smooth skin. Why did it have to be there?

Tsukishima watched as your eyes stayed still on your homework, obviously not actually reading anything. He sighed and reached over again, poking at your nose, “If you think I’m going to let you destroy your grades and your perfect body, I’ll hit you harder than I have before,” he threatened. He meant to say it gentler, in a somewhat more supportive and comforting way but his words were still as harsh as ever.

You gave him another shy smile, trying not to show just how uncomfortable you were, “They just get annoying sometimes,” you told him after a moment when he didn’t immediately go back to his work. “I feel like if I could tear them all off... maybe I’d look better.”

Tsukishima’s nose scrunched up slightly in annoyance, tilting his head up so his eyes were glaring down at you, “Do you think I’m going to let anyone talk about my partner like that? Idiot, if I heard those words from anyone else I would have your head by now."

You laughed a little, thinking about how Tsukishima got upset if anyone even said something remotely mean about you (”The only one allowed to bully you is me, Y/N, forget anyone else’s opinions. They’re all beneath you anyways”), “I just feel so... spotted with them. I feel like everyone always looks at them and there’s so many of them I can’t even hide them all.”

Tsukishima listened, he really did. He didn’t wave you off like usual and tell you to forget your insecurities because you were definitely the most perfect person out there so you had nothing to be insecure about. He listened and then just sighed, leaning back in his seat slightly and watching you.

“I think you’re magnificent,” he stated quietly, his eyes dashing away from yours as a blush brushed over his cheeks and nose. “I don’t want you picking at them because you’re just going to hurt yourself and I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He paused for a second and then finally met your eyes. “Yamaguchi used to hate his freckles, but it’s probably the thing that I notice the most about him. They fit him so well in a way that I can’t describe. He wouldn’t be the same without them, he’d just be... someone else. Without your marks, you’d be someone completely different. I’m in love with you and all of you.”

You watched him as Tsukishima actually told you his emotions and spilled his love for you, a smile gracing your lips eventually, “I love you too, Tsukishima,” you mumbled after he finished, playing with your fingers.

“You better. Now come over here and give me a kiss before we start studying again,” Tsukishima smirked a little and you just rolled your eyes. You were going to argue back that he could just lean over the table and kiss you but he refused so you ended up having to go over to him, where he just pulled you on your lap and placed a quick kiss on your lips then on all the marks on your face. “Now go study.”

Haikyuu taglist (let me know if you’d like to join!)

@al0ehas @aurumk @devilkittymusic @thisnoodlewritesao3 @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet @lucyheartfilias-wife @darkvadeeer @haikyuutothetop @wolfishwriting @livy384 @babyshoyo

[pookiepoodle]

Finding out you’re a Little ft. Inarizaki

I don’t own any art (except the lovely swirly thing). Please check out my masterlist and send in requests. This is an age-regression piece, so expect that kind of content (all non-sexual). Aran’s involves diapers as a medical need. 

Suna

You wanna watch cartoons after a long day of studying for your upcoming university exams.  

Suna smirks a little but doesn’t say anything, shrugging as he pulls you up against his chest, the screen flashing with bright colors. 

You don’t even notice the smirk and you can feel yourself growing smaller, your eyes shining as you giggle at the silly antics of the characters.

 Now, Suna has a faint idea of what’s happening. He’s always on his phone so he sees a lot of different communities and right now, you’re reminding him of something. 

“Ya know Princess, you’re acting really cute right now,” he begins, his hands wrapped around your waist as you stare at the TV. You feel rather small and you can’t help but giggle, snuggling back into his chest. Suna always makes you feel so safe, especially when you feel like this. Though, you don’t tend to regress in front of your boyfriend as he (at least in your mind) doesn’t know anything about your tendencies to do so. 

“You feeling small?”

That question makes you sit up straight, the cartoons forgotten as you realise what Suna said. Suna knew. He knew you were an age regressor. There was no way he asked that and didn’t understand the implications of it. But… he wasn’t freaking out. He wasn’t grossed out or asking her to stop. So shyly, you nod, holding your breath as you wait for his response.

“Alright, how about we order some pizza for dinner and we just cuddle, keep watching your show?” he hums, making you smile brightly at the thought of having delicious pizza. But, even more so at the fact that your boyfriend knows you so well. 

You’ll talk to him more about your age regression tomorrow, when you’re feeling bigger, but for now? 

You simply cuddle him, watching your show with a happy heart.

Kita

You can’t stop staring at the coloring books during your weekly shopping trip at the grocery store. 

Kita doesn’t say anything, letting you look over them all. He notices you keep going back to a specific one and will suddenly grab it, putting it into the cart.

You jump a little, blushing brightly when you realise that a) he caught you staring at children’s coloring books and b) he’s put it in the shopping cart, clearly intending to buy it for you.

Kita isn’t aware of what age regression is per say, so he simply thinks that you want to color. 

“They also do adult coloring books, Y/N,” Kita says, pointing at some of the other ones, but you shake your head no. Those ones are too detailed, too finicky for when you’re little. You’ll only get frustrated and cry, so instead you prefer to use the ones meant for kids.

“That’s alright, do you need crayons or anything?” he continued, acting as if his girlfriend/boyfriend/partner wanting a kids coloring book was normal (AN: totally is). 

“Kita, don’t you think it’s… weird?” you finally said, your voice small as you met his eyes. Kita was a straight-forward man and you expected him to be brutally honest with you. 

“Why would it be weird?”

“Well… it’s a kids coloring book and I’m supposed to be Big-” you began, cutting yourself off at the last word. You’d meant to say adult.

“Big? Y/N, is everything alright?” Kita asks calmly, moving closer to you. You can feel his hand against the small of your back, a comforting gesture.

“Can… can we talk about it in the car?” you ask, trying to keep yourself calm. You knew it was time to tell Kita (you’d been dating for years now) but even so, it was a scary thought. 

“Of course, we’re nearly done with the shopping,” Kita nodded, taking your hand as he led you to get the last few items. Throughout the process of paying and leaving the shop, you didn’t say a word to him, trying to figure out how to best tell him the truth.

“Just sit in the car, darling, I’ll load the shopping,” Kita insists, leaving you to twiddle your thumbs in the front seat, until you hear him get in next to you.

“Y/N, I don’t want to force you to tell me what’s going on, but I want to let you know that you can trust me.”

And with those words, you began to tell him everything about your little side, how you love to color and drink apple juice from your sippy. As you speak, he will ask questions as a lot of the terms you use are unfamiliar to him, but once you’re done, he gives you a small smile, reaching across to grab your hand.

“Y/N, when we get home, may I color with you?”

With a bright smile, you nod, relieved at how accepting your wonderful boyfriend is.

Aran

He finds your “protection” when he’s in your room. 

He was really confused and tried to act like he didn’t see it, simply nudging the packaging further under the bed.

But you saw his eyes widen, his face grow red and you know that he knows. 

With tears filling your eyes, you push him out your way as you run into the bathroom, locking the door as you sink to the ground, sobbing. 

Immediately, he panics, trying the door handle but to no avail.

He has no idea what’s going on, but all he knows is that his beloved girlfriend/boyfriend/partner is upset and he just wants to comfort you. 

You were a mess behind the door, sobbing your heart out as the events just kept replaying in your mind. He saw your “adult protection” which, let’s be honest, were just diapers. The fancy name always made you feel a little bit better when buying them, but now, it was just that. A fancy name for a humiliating product. There was no way that Aran wasn’t going to dump you.

“Y/N, please let me in!”

“No! J-Just g-go…”

“I’m not leaving until we talk about this, okay?”

Aran could be stubborn when he wanted to be and you realised that this was going to be one of those times. He wouldn’t leave until you talked to him, even if it took hours.

“C-Can we talk through the d-door?” 

“Of course, sweetheart,” you heard him say, his tone gentle and reassuring as you try to pull yourself together.

You then proceeded to very shakily explain about your little space. Aran had his phone out and if he didn’t recognise a word, he quickly googled it as to not have to make you answer his questions. In little space, you sometimes had problems controlling your bladder at night and after waking up with wet sheets far too often, you’d decided it was best to get some form of protection. Once you’d finished speaking, there was a silence.

“I-It’s okay if y-you don’t w-want this, I g-get it…” you whispered, tears filling your eyes once more as you waited for Aran to agree.

“Why would I not want you?”

You immediately sit up, shocked.

“Y/N, I love you, a lot. I think it’s amazing that you’re able to find a way to relax and be happy, not everyone can do that. I think you’re adorable already, I can’t imagine how cute you are when you’re little. I’m so lucky, shoot, I’ve got the cutest girlfriend ever…”

“But what about… ya know…”

“The protection? Sweetheart, that’s not your fault. You’re so brave and smart and kind and amazing and I would be a jerk if I dumped you because of something as silly as that. Heck, I used to change my little sister’s diapers all the time, I’m not bothered by it.”

“I-I’m not asking for your help!”

“Ah, wait, I didn’t mean- like if you wanted or needed it, I’d love to take care of you, even if you need help with that, but only if you want to,” he panicked, bright red as he realised that he was probably being a bit too forward.

There was another pause before the bathroom lock clicked and the door opened. 

“L-Let’s t-take it slow… but I’d l-like to watch a movie with you.”

Osamu

You were crying because your mom said she thought she accidentally tossed out your lovie/stuffie.

He was really confused because you were at Miya Onigiri and you just kept crying, so he immediately pulls you into the back room, glaring at the staff to keep them out as he just hugs you. You know that you’re regressing but you’re just in such a panic that you can’t really care, clinging to him as you babble, tears streaming down your face.

 Instinctively, he wraps his arms around you, gently bouncing you on his knee as he pats your back, mumbling that,” Everything’s gonna be alright, Y/N, okay? Yer alright, just take a deep breath…” 

After a while, you manage to calm down, though you’re still trembling in his arms as you catch your breath. Of course, Osamu isn’t the type to just let things like this slip and he will immediately ask if he can talk to you about it.

“Alright, we need to talk about what happened, Angel,” he sighs, shifting you on his lap so that you’re facing him properly, though he refuses to let you go. 

“It’s not that big of a deal…” you mumble, your face now pink and tear-stained as you look away from him. You’d always tried to keep this side of yourself private but hearing that your Mom might have tossed out Bunny… Even thinking about it again was enough to make you tear up, which your boyfriend noticed immediately.

“It seems like a big deal to me,” he replied, moving to wipe away the fresh tears,” C’mon, Y/N, you know I don’t care if it’s embarrassing or something. Remember when I had to call ye because I got food poisoning and that bastard used all the toilet paper?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the memory, nodding as you let his thumb rub against your cheeks lovingly. 

“So, please, I just wanna know,” he finished, giving you a pleading look.

So, you told him everything. He obviously had questions, interrupting you when you used terms he was unfamiliar with and when he just needed something clarified. You grew sadder when you started talking about your rabbit plushie, explaining what had happened and he hugged you to his chest gently.

“That’s awful, Angel, I’m real sorry,” he mumbled,” Listen though. I’m gonna learn more about this and if ya let me, I wanna be a part of it. I like taking care of ye already, so if yer willing to give me a chance, let me try, m’kay?”

You were so happy, you nearly started crying again as you nodded.

“How about helping me look for Bunny after work?”

And with a nod from Osamu, that’s how he became your Daddy.

(afternote: Bunny had fallen behind the bed and was found!)

Atsumu

You accidentally open the door with your paci in your mouth. 

He notices it and smiles, wrapping his arms around you without even saying something, though he makes sure to close the door quickly so other people don’t see. 

You don’t even realise that you’re wearing your paci until you move to give him a kiss, his hand moving to pull it out before giving you a small peck.

 Immediately, you pull back, eyes widened as you try and grab the mouth piece back, humiliated. 

Atsumu knows that look in your eyes and immediately gives it back, but not before grabbing your hand and dragging you to the living room, where he pulls you onto his lap for snuggles.

“So… nice paci,” he begins, watching you blush adorably as you hide it in your pockets.

“Thanks,” you mumble, unable to meet his eyes as you wish you could disappear right now or that a coconut would fall from the ceiling and hit Atsumu in the head. Just hard enough to wipe his memory of the last 10 minutes. 

“Do ye use it a lot or just sometimes?” he asked. He wasn’t teasing you (as you had expected), seeming to be genuinely curious about your little habit.

“Umm… just sometimes, when I feel like it,” you continue, blushing, nervously playing with your hair as you try to keep calm. 

“If ye wanna keep using it, go ahead,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You don’t think I’m a freak?”

“What? Has someone said something to you about it?!” Atsumu suddenly exclaimed, his eyes filled with fire. If anyone had teased you about this, he was ready to kick their ass.

“No, no! I was just wondering, most people think stuff like this is weird for an adult…” you mumbled, feeling self conscious. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t even feel Atsumu reaching into your pocket and grabbing your paci. At least, not until he gently pushed it into your mouth, making your eyes widen. You went to pull it out, but he stopped you gently holding it in place as he spoke.

“I think yer adorable, Y/N. I’m gonna do some more research n stuff, since I think I’ve heard about this, but only if ye want me to.”

You pause, thinking it over before gently nodding, making him smile brightly.

“Alright baby, lets just relax for now.”

[cherryobx]

I'm all yours//Rafe Cameron x reader

request: "Hii!! I love your writing! What if Rafe and Y/N have a fling, but he doesn’t make a move or show his motives, so she starts distancing herself from him. Later he finds out that she’s been going out with another guy (totally up to you to decide whether it’s obx character or fictional) and decides to have a conversation with her about what they are (he’s a liiitle too jealous and it makes her mad, but they work it out after a small fight). That’s it!! Hope you like it, have a great day🥰"

summary: Rafe realizes something when he hears that you're seeing someone

warnings: language, mentions of sex (but no smut!), FWB, angst

WC: 1.7k

(not my gif, creds to the owner!)

He was never there when you woke up. It was like a tradition at this point. He always left without you noticing. Of course, some mornings you wished that he’d stay a little longer and just hold you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear. But that was Rafe Cameron we’re talking about. It was nothing more than a friends with benefits situation. Although you wished it was something more. You’d never tell it to Rafe though. He’d just make fun of you for wanting something that was so out of your reach, something almost impossible.

After stretching a bit on your bed, you sat up and tried to rub the tiredness away from your eyes. Your eyes drifted to the alarm clock beside your bed. 7:32. Why had you woken up so early? You blamed it on the coldness of your bed and the sheets. After all it was just you in it.

You stood up, put on an oversized t-shirt and started picking up your clothes that had been scattered all over your bedroom the night before. You tossed them onto the bathroom floor and made a mental note to put them in the washing machine later.

Feeling your stomach grumble with hunger you walked into the kitchen and put two slices of bread into the toaster. You opened the fridge and took out the butter. Lately you had been obsessed with toast with butter. It was heavenly on mornings like these.

As soon as the toast was done, you spread some butter on them. You didn’t care enough to put them on a plate. Or you were just lazy. One of those reasons. As you were eating your toast, you scrolled on your phone, seeing all the pictures and videos from last night’s party. You had decided not to go and just stay home and watch a movie all by yourself. You actually treasured those moments. Rafe came over in the middle of the night and of course he was pretty hammered. You still slept with him though. How could you deny yourself such pleasure?

When you were finished eating, you sat on the living room couch, pulling your knees up to your chest. You felt pathetic, sad even. You were sorry for yourself. You had let Rafe crawl into your life, into your head, and now you couldn’t get him out. He was always on your mind.

“This has to stop,” you mumbled to yourself, as you took out your phone and texted the guy you had turned down a few days ago. He had asked you out but you declined because it felt wrong to go out with a guy that wasn’t Rafe. But now you realized that the smartest thing right now would be trying to forget about Rafe. He didn’t see you as nothing more than a friend, a hook-up.

He replied almost immediately which was a bit weird because it was 8 in the morning but you didn’t give it much thought. You agreed to go on a date with him in the evening.

As you were getting ready to go on the date, you got a text from Rafe, asking if he could come over tonight. You didn’t reply. It’s for the better, you thought.

The guy, Luke, picked you up at 7 p.m sharp and took you to out to eat. It was pretty romantic you were not going to lie.

“You’ve been living in Kildare your entire life? How have I not seen you before?” you asked before taking a bite of your food.

“It may be because I don’t really go to parties.” You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“You don’t? Then what do you do here? There’s really nothing to do here except parties and golf, if you ask me.”

“Well, mostly I just hang out with my friends, play golf, go fishing. You know, the usual stuff.”

“I’d get bored with that fast,” you laughed.

“Then what do you do here?” he asked.

“Umm, I go to parties, obviously, I’m not lame,” you said, sarcastically rolling your eyes. “But sometimes I surf.”

“You do? Isn’t that like a pogue thing?”

“So, sport is now a pogue thing? Yeah, I don’t label things like that. The whole pogue vs kook things is just pointless in my opinion.”

“If you say so.” He took a sip of his drink.

After dinner, you walked down to the beach and just took a stroll there. It was a beautiful sunset and you even took some pictures with him to remember that night.

“I had a really good time tonight. Thanks for not turning me down like I did you.” He had just brought you home and walked up to your front door.

“No problem. Who am I to say no to such a pretty girl.” The compliment made you blush.

“Also, thank you for paying tonight. I promise I’ll pay next time.”

“There’s going to be a next time?”

“Yes. I mean if you want to.”

“I do.”

“Then it’s settled.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek before entering your home and closing the door behind you. You were actually happy with how this whole thing turned out. You hadn’t thought about Rafe even once this whole evening.

When you stopped answering to Rafe’s texts and calls, he became confused. What was going on? Had he done something to upset you?

After a few weeks in the dark, he heard at one party that you were seeing someone. He felt this kind of tightness in his chest. It was a mix of emotions. Almost like anger but not really. He couldn’t put a finger on it why he felt like this. It was not like you were his girlfriend or anything. Although he liked the sound of that. Y/N, his girlfriend.

He left the party and came over to your place. He banged his fist on the door repeatedly. Je might’ve even woken up your neighbours with all the noise he was making.

“Rafe, what the fuck are you doing here in the middle of the night?” you asked, as you opened the door. You were wearing an old t-shirt and shorts. You looked adorable to him.

“Can we talk?”

“At 2 in the morning? No fucking way.” You started to close the door but he shoved his foot between the door and its frame.

“Y/N, please. I need to speak with you.”

“Then come back at a reasonable hour,” you huffed and rolled your eyes.

“This is a reasonable hour. Just let me in.”

You let out a sight but then opened the door for him. You walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water because your throat was feeling a bit dry. He followed you close behind.

“If you’re here for sex then you might as well just leave right now. I’m not in the mood.”

“Is it so hard to believe that I’m here just to talk to you?”

“You want an honest answer to that?” you asked, raising your eyebrow at him.

“Not really.”

You took a sip from your glass and then placed it on the kitchen counter. “If you’re really here to talk then talk. I want to go back to sleep.”

“I don’t want you going out with that Luke you’ve been seeing.”

“How the fuck is that your business? I can go out with whoever I want. You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Yes, I can. I know what’s best for you.”

You bitterly laughed. “Oh, you do now? Rafe, you don’t know shit.”

“He’s not a good guy for you.”

“And you know that how? He treats me better than you ever have. And that’s a fact. Keep your nose out of my business and go find some other girl to fuck. This,” you waved your finger between you two, “is over. I don’t want to see you anymore. Like ever again. So you might as well delete my number.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?” The frustration within you was too much to handle as tears started to fall from your eyes and roll down your cheeks.

“Because I love you, for fucks sake,” he admitted, yelling.

You were staring at him in shock. You were speechless and didn’t know what to say. Was this like some sort of cruel prank he was playing on you? Or was he serious? Could it be? It was hard to believe. Why would he admit it now, after all this time?

“I didn’t realize it at first. I was so caught up in myself and my problems. But when I heard you were seeing someone, I freaked out. I didn’t like the feeling it gave me. I didn’t like the thought of you with someone else other than me. It didn’t seem right.”

He slowly walked closer to your, now sobbing, frame. He placed one of his hands on your shoulder and the other under you chin. He lifted it so you’d look him in the eye.

“If there’s a slight chance that you’re feeling like I do, please tell me. If not, I’ll leave right now and you’ll never have to even see me again.”

“I do,” you whispered, not being able to actually talk. Your emotions were overwhelming you as you broke down. He wrapped his arms around you and rubbed his hand up and down on your back in a soothing manner.

“It’s okay. Don’t cry. I’m here with you.”

You stood there for what felt like eternity, crying between his arms. When you had calmed down you pulled away a bit so you could look at him.

“You’re such an asshole. You know that, right?”

He nodded. He knew.

“But. I love you too. Always have been. I tried so hard to forget you. That’s why I started going out with Luke. So I could forget you for a couple of hours. And it worked. But as soon as I got home it was like he never existed. I thought about you. Only you.”

“Well, now I’m all yours.”

“That’s good to hear because I’m yours as well.”

***

FEEDBACK IS VERY APPRECIATED!

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[saphirered]

If you want some individual character asks how about Caleb with a Druid s/o who will wild shape into a cat if he seems sad to try and make him feel better.

Here you go! Enjoy 😘.

Not only out of components to return Frumpkin to his preferred cat form but also having loaned the now owl familiar to Beauregard as part of their agreement Caleb feels lonely, lacking the comfort of the orange fur ball to keep him company. There’s always been something about having the only creature aware of everything he had gone through and still look at him the same as they had always done that gives him hope there might yet be redemption and salvation for him and it’s something he really could use right now. All that’s left for him is to retreat to his room and wallow in sorrow until he falls asleep, gets the components to turn Frumpkin back, this feeling passes or a distraction big enough to have him focus on something else comes along.

You’d noticed Caleb silently retreat when the others were still around. Caleb may be good at covering up anything beyond a surface level of emotion but you know him well enough he’s not in the greatest shape when he just wanders off in the middle of the day. Things had been harsh lately and he’d been struggling. You’d been doing your best to be there for him but Caleb struggles even more with accepting help from others when he’s like this and prefers seclusion until he sets himself straight. It’s not healthy, you’ve told him but it keeps him going so you’ve come to terms with it offering him little gestures of kindness whenever you could if only to ease his pain a little bit.

When Caleb disappeared into the background making sure the others were too caught up in whatever they were doing you sat around, staring in the direction he left in half paying attention to the people around you and your mind debating wether or not you should do something, anything. After Caleb hadn’t returned in an hour you excused yourself and went after him searching for wherever he went. Your first guess had to be right. Not many places he could or would go.

There you are standing in front of the wooden door fist raised hesitantly to knock. Maybe this was a bad idea? Maybe you should just leave him to himself. If Caleb wants to be alone then you should respect that… but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t check in on him… Because what if you could do something? It doesn’t have to be much or fix everything because you know that’s not the goal but the tiniest difference between Caleb wallowing in his own pain and having something or someone to bring him some comfort; that would be enough.

So you knock. There’s a silence and you don’t expect a reply of any kind. You try again, a little bit harder this time. Still you wait patiently. You’re about to turn and leave when the door opens and Caleb peaks out. He looks tired, exhausted even but musters a half smile upon seeing you.

“What can I do for you?” Caleb tries his best to not falter in his usual habits but he knows there’s no hiding from you. You wouldn’t be here if he had succeeded in the first place. No use in keeping the facade going.

“I came to see if you’re alright.” Again there’s the pained half smile. You pity him so much. You know Caleb does not want your pity but still you do. You can’t help yourself but feel sorry for everything he’s been put through and the scars left from the past. No one should have to suffer through such terrible things.

“I’m fine.”

“No, Caleb. You’re not fine.”

“I will be fine. I just need… time.” Caleb sighs holding onto the door. You clasp your hands together and give him the sincerest look you can muster.

“I know you will be fine but I also know you won’t ask for help unless it’s a last resort so I’ll ask you. Do you need my help? Is there anything I could do for you?” Caleb bites his lip, steps aside and allows you to enter. You do and the door is closed behind you. The room is as simple as ever, the sheets slightly crinkled and pillow sunken, giving away he’d been sitting in bed staring into the abyss for who knows how long.

Caleb sits on the bed hands clasped in his lap and nods to the space next to him. You take the hint and sit down. Hesitantly you reach out your hand towards his but stop and are about to pull away hadn’t Caleb grasped your hand to enclose it between both of his own. The grip isn’t too tight or lacking any strength but feels like him holding on to a lifeline no less.

“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” You ask as the wizard keeps his eyes on your hand between his. There’s something about the gesture to him that brings him comfort and keeps him tethered to this plane. You’re like an island in the middle of the ocean and he’s been swimming from sharks out to get him but not even you can stand up against a flood. Caleb shakes his head.

“Is there something you usually do to make things easier?” You know of some of the coping mechanisms of Caleb but he wouldn’t have retreated if they worked. Caleb’s smarter than you are and knows himself best so while you may come up with some ideas, you’ll let him try first.

“Yes but not now. Not unless you happen to have about ten gold worth of incense on you.” Caleb laughs sarcastically.

“If you need Frumpkin back I can go retrieve him from Beau if you don’t feel comfortable doing so yourself. Don’t worry.” He appreciates your willingness to take the pressure off any social interactions he doesn’t have the energy for but sadly that’s not the reason.

“Thank you but Frumpkin as he is now won’t help. I need my cat. Not my cat shaped like an owl and it’ll still be a while before we get somewhere I can get enough incense to turn him back.”Caleb looks at you and can see the cogs in your head turning. A realisation has hit you but he cannot place it so instead he awaits for you to elaborate.

“You need a cat? Would any cat do or just Frumpkin? Maybe a cat that looks like Frumpkin?” You try your best to get the clearest visual of the orange ball of fur you can to make sure you could get this right.

“I think so but I’m not sure?” Caleb tries to figure out what you’re hinting at.

“Would this help?” You close your eyes and focus on the image in your mind. Next you open your eyes the world is different. You’re staring up at Caleb with a significant height difference. Your senses pick up on things you did not before and you’re hit with an overwhelming scent of a mixture of spell components, smoke and something more earthy. It’s not uncomfortable and actually pleasant.

Caleb is at loss for words. He knows about your ability to turn into animals but never considered the fact you’d be able to turn into a cat. While he certainly sees some dissimilarities between you and Frumpkin they are minor, he would not have expected you to know exactly where Frumpkin has that little spot shaped like a bean or where one of his whiskers is just a little shorter than the other above it.

Reaching out as if to pet you Caleb hesitates. He knows it’s not Frumpkin or another cat. He’s fully aware this is still you and you’re still fully aware of your surroundings, retain your memory and everything you knew as a person. He can see it in your eyes; they are unmistakably you. When you nudge up into his hand allowing him to stroke his fingers over your head Caleb reads this as you giving him permission. The head scratches turn over to your cheek and just under your chin and you can’t help but feel yourself beginning to purr just like Frumpkin does when he receives the same attention. It’s actually very comfortable and you get why the fey cat likes it so much.

An arm guides you to Caleb’s side and the fingers brushing through your orange fur continue. You don’t know wether or not it’s the cat senses kicking in or your own but you can feel the anxiety beginning to lessen from Caleb. That’s a good sign.

Slowly, little by little your positions change. One moment you’re half leaning against Caleb’s thigh, the next you’re curled up in his lap. Eventually you find yourselves laying back on the bed, you rolled up comfortably on Caleb’s stomach, the fingers brushing through your fur continuing until they become slower and slower and eventually cease, Caleb’s breathing growing heavier and slower. He’s asleep. You look at him careful not to twist too much but he looks peaceful and much less bothered by whatever haunts him so. You don’t want to wake him up so you’ll stay. You still got plenty of time left on this wild shape so maybe you’ll close your eyes for a bit too and you too fall asleep.

When you wake up you feel whatever’s under you stir so you open your eyes and make eye contact with Caleb who looks mortified for some reason. You wonder why. Had you done something in cat form? Wait, you don’t feel as small as you did anymore…

When Caleb woke up he found you in your normal form supporting your head on your crossed arms laying on his stomach fast asleep, his fingers intwined in your hair and the other hand somewhere between your shoulder blades. He shouldn’t have fallen asleep. You hadn’t agreed to this and what if the reason you still being here was because his grip might have been too tight? Nevermind the awkwardness of this all. He doesn’t do well with most physical touch but just like you in cat form, this feels comfortable and he’s ashamed to admit he could very well get used to this, though he doesn’t have the heart to ask you himself.

You sit up supporting yourself on your hands on either side of Caleb. You saw his response to the position the two of you woke up and you know what he’s like when it comes to physical touch and after the emotionally intimate moment you shared with him finding comfort in you, you hope you hadn’t ruined it by falling asleep not keeping track on when your wild shape would end. You blurt out apologies as you sit up and begin removing yourself from on top of Caleb. Caleb stops you as you’re on your knees and rises himself to a sitting position.

“No, I should apologise. Thank you for your kindness. I should have been more considerate. I did not mean to keep you or put you in a, no pun intended, tight spot.” Caleb grabs one of your hands lightly as if afraid you’d slip away and he’d be alone again. Your initial fear you might have overstepped yourself falls away.

“Do… you want me to stay?” You’re almost afraid to ask but you have to, if not for your own sake then for his. Caleb nods sheepishly but when you wrap your arms around his waist pulling yourself close to him once more. His hands find your hair and begin to loosely brush through carefully getting rid of any tangle that might have been there.

“You know I could turn back into a cat once more if you’d prefer.” You mutter into Caleb’s stomach and you can feel the slight tension and release of his abdomen signalling a silent laugh.

“While I very much appreciate the offer and will hope it still stands in the future, for now I am very much content with this.”

[kiyoomichan]

SAKUSA.PEGGING.PEGGING SAKUSA. and edging him and then overstim him 😼😼 fem dom we r flourishing TODAY. and i love u!!

i love u too anon🥺

SAKUSA X FEMDOM!SO + PEGGING

A/N: all characters are strictly 18+.

warnings: humiliation, degradation, spanking, hole-slapping, femdom, slight dumbification

this is so dirty i’m sorry in advance

it’s late one evening when kiyoomi gets home from practice. you’re sitting on the couch as he comes through the door, and can tell he’s stressed out just by looking at him; his shoulders wound tight and his eyebrow twitching

you figure it’s probably because of something atsumu did to piss him off, and omi is like a firecracker when he’s upset, so you wait to let him come to you and go back to scrolling through your twitter feed

you’re surprised when he comes over to you, curling up next to you on the sectional and laying his head on your shoulder. you can smell the gym brand shampoo on his curls, and the hint of aftershave and cologne on his neck

“not now,” you think to yourself, trying not to let his scent arouse you. he’s upset and you want to comfort him, not gross him out

“bad day?” you ask, already knowing the answer. he mumbles a quiet “yes,” the sound muffled by his face in your shoulder.

a large hand comes down to rest on your leg, his thumb rubbing circles into your inner thigh in an attempt to self soothe, not realizing he was inadvertently making you more wet by the minute

“wanna talk about it, baby?” you ask again, reaching up to pet his damp hair. he whimpers into your shoulder, snuggling his face deeper into the crook of your neck

he pushes himself closer to you, seeking comfort. you feel lucky that you get to be the one to see this side of kiyoomi—his usual stoic facade crumbling as soon as he lets himself be held by you. it took you a long time to get to this point, to crack his walls—and you couldn’t be more happy that he let you

“do you need me to take care of you, hmm, kiyoomi? a lil’ TLC?” you chuckle, twisting your neck to press a kiss to the top of his head.

“please,” he whispers, so faint that you can barely hear it. “need you.”

your breath hitches at his words as you slowly start to piece together what he wants—you should’ve known, really—the neediness in his voice, the clinging, touchy-feeliness of his actions up til now.

you’d only done it a few times before, on these rare occasions when kiyoomi needs you to take him apart and put him back together again

“of course, doll,” you say, moving to get up before you’re interrupted by a hand gripping your wrist. “don’t leave,” he says, sounding very small and not like himself at all

“shh,” you soothe, turning around a bit. “i’ll be right back, ok? i just need to get our toys.”

you watch as he bites his lip and lets go, albeit reluctantly

you smile at him and hurry to the box in the nightstand, grabbing your strap, latex gloves, lube, cockring, and vibrator

by the time you get back, he’s laid himself out on the couch, chest heaving with anticipation as you walk towards him.

you crouch down beside him and look into his eyes lovingly.

“do you want to prep yourself? or d’you want me to do it for you?”

he flushes and throws an arm over his eyes, turning his face away from your gaze

“...you, please.”

you waste no time getting to work, crawling up to where his legs rest on the couch

“m’gonna take these off, okay?” you say, slowly tugging at the waist and of his athletic shorts and briefs. he says nothing as you pull them off at the same time, and shivers at the cool air against his half-hard cock

“so cute,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his thigh. “hold your legs up for me, baby.”

he obeys, moving so that his legs are spread and pressed to his chest, letting his most intimate parts be exposed to your eyes

“so pretty, love,” you smile, glancing at his embarrassed expression. “so clean and beautiful, all mine, hm?”

he squeezes his eyes shut, holding back a moan as you slip on the gloves and lube up your fingers, pouring a bit extra down his perineum and the cleft of his ass.

“a—ah!” kiyoomi yelps as two of your fingers sink into his hole, starting to scissor in and out of him.

you steadily increase the pace as you go, adding a third finger and watching in amusement as he nearly screams when you find his sweet spot.

“you feeling good, baby boy?” you tease, watching the slightest bit of drool trickle down his chin, giving a particularly rough thrust of your fingers against his prostate

“h-hngh!” kiyoomi moans, moving his hands from where they’re hooked under his knees to grasp at the fabric of the couch

“please, please, please...” he trails off, looking at you with hazy eyes

“shh, honey, i’ve got you.”

you slip your gloved fingers out of his hole, and he whines at the empty feeling

you grab the vibrator and ring—and you watch his blissed out, needy expression turn into one of panic

“it’s okay, it’s okay,” you hush him as he looks up at you with pleading eyes. “you’ll feel so much better after, i promise.”

his muscled chest heaves as you pump his cock a few times, carefully slipping the pink silicone ring over his length

you cut him off by flicking on the hitachi to its lowest setting, slowly running it over the underside of his aching cock

kiyoomi watches you slip your harness on, fixing the mini bullet against your clit and hooking the dildo on. you crawl over to hover above him, and run a gentle hand down his cheek

“(y/n), i—“

his hips buck at the vibrations against his groin, rocking up into the toy while simultaneously trying to get away from it

“oh, oh, oh, oh—” he cries as you increase the power, moving the wand from his balls to the flushed head of his cock, where pearly white beads of cum begin to drip down his length

“such a good boy,” you whisper as the volume of his moans heightens. “such a good boy, kiyoomi.”

his cheeks are flushed strawberry with embarrassment at being so vulnerable

“miss, please,” he whines as the vibrations of the toy torment his senses. “please, i need....”

“what do you need, sweetheart?”

kiyoomi bites his lip and groans in frustration at having to admit to something so filthy

“c’mon, love, you can do it. don’t be shy, it’s just me and you,” you smile sweetly, teasing him.

he’s panting now, curls sticking to his forehead, covered in a fullbody flush. you’re so close to breaking him.

“don’t you wanna be a good boy, kiyo? or do i have to punish you, hmm?”

his eyes widen at the thought—but he’s too slow to answer, instead mumbling and stuttering, and before he knows it, he’s been thrown over your lap, bottom in the air.

“no, no, no, no—please don’t, please—”

“shhh, honey—you were a bad boy, so now you need to be taught a lesson, yeah? bad boys get spankings.”

his neck lurches up as your hand rubs over the swell of his ass, then coming down with a harsh slap. his face is red and he’s biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.

“count for me, darling.”

“o—one!” he shouts, screaming numbers every time you land a blow. you can’t see his face, but you can tell there’s tears streaming down his cheeks.

“it’s okay, baby, just a little more.”

you spread him open, and he whines when he feels the cool air hit his hole. he tries to squirm away from your grasp, embarrassed at being so exposed.

“stop it,” you say sternly. “i think you need to be punished here, too. how does that sound, hm?”

he doesn’t have time to speak before you’re using three fingers to slap his most sensitive part—his yelps sounding like music to your ears.

you’re able to feel him rutting his pathetic cock against your thigh, smearing cum all over your skin. “you’re so naughty, baby,” you chastise. “you came just from me slapping your stupid little hole?”

“kiyoomi, i asked you a question. are you going to answer or do i need to give you another spanking?”

he shakes his head furiously. “y—yes, i did, i came from miss slapping my hole,”

you smile and card your fingers through his silky locks

“does baby want me to fuck him now?”

“yes, please, please fuck me—“ he cries, so uncharacteristically but so sweet all the same.

“shhh, love. i’ve got you.”

his toes curl in anticipation as you lube up the strap, your expression lewd and domineering.

kiyoomi moves into position, face down, ass up. he knows exactly how you want him.

“‘s okay, babydoll, i’m gonna take real good care of you, i promise.” 

you slap the silicone head of your strap against his already puffy hole a few times, laughing when he all but screams your name.

“d-don’t tease,” he huffs.

you smile slyly, and thrust the entire length in to the hilt. he cries out, tossing his head back just enough for you to grab him by his curls.

“is that what you wanted, sweetheart? you wanna be fucked like a little slut, huh? you’re so needy for me, so tight and wet. i bet you’d love it if everyone could see you all weak and pathetic like this, huh?”

“no, no!” he cries, fingers clutching at the sheets. “only...only miss can see me like this.”

“is that right, angel?” you grunt, abusing that spot inside him with your repeated thrusts.

kiyoomi whines so prettily as you pound him into the mattress, cock weeping and dripping onto the bed. your hand comes up to stroke his length ever so lightly, drawing out more cries from him.

“does baby wanna cum? wanna spill himself all over mistress’s sheets like a stupid little boy?”

you can tell he’s fighting your words in his mind—he’s not stupid, but he does want to cum.

“yes! yes, please, please let me cum, please let me, miss—i’ve been so good, please—”

you reward him with a flick of your wrist, twisting over his flushed, aching cock just how he likes, spurts of cum shooting to cover your hands and his chest.

kiyoomi’s shoulders shake and tremble as he comes down from his high, and you hold him through it, gently pulling out and taking your hand away from his dick. he shudders at the loss as you help him lay down.

he shuts his eyes for a few seconds, chest heaving. you lean over him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

“shh, kiyo,” you soothe, petting the sweaty curls off his forehead. “you did so good for me, honey.”

“would you like to go get cleaned up now?”

he mumbles something akin to a yes, and you help him walk to the bathroom, a protective hand on his waist the whole way.

you allow him to soak in the bath while you wash off in the adjacent shower. he’s near falling asleep, a sated sleepy expression on his face.

you finish up, wrapping a towel around yourself and padding over to help him out of the water.

back in the bedroom, you dress him gently, pulling his briefs and an oversized shirt on him.

you stand in front of your shared bed for a moment, his large hands coming down to hold your waist.

kiyoomi is so soft after a scene, a side of himself he rarely lets others see. you’re thankful he’s allowed you to be one of the lucky few.

“i love you,” he says, resting his forehead on your shoulder.

your hand comes up to play with his freshly washed hair, fingers tangling in the curls and running down his neck.

“and i you, sweets.”